40 alternating lunges, light on lunge, extinguish on return.
Hold plank position until collapse while one tries to light the candle, and the other keeps it extinguished. Switch on repeat.
“You will run through that sequence until I return, at which point I will evaluate where you are in your studies so I can develop a curriculum for you. If you aren’t sufficiently exhausted, you will repeat this sequence next class.” He hands each of us a candle. “Questions?”
My breath catches as I steal a glance at Reid. Outside of last night, I’ve never been left alone with a man before—much less while exercising—but he doesn’t seem bothered by the notion at all. Society’s rules must not trickle down here.
“I can’t do a push-up or sit-up,” I say.
“Then do the push-ups on your knees and crunches instead. Anything else?”
We both shake our heads.
“Good. I will return at quarter after third bell.” Beckwith leaves the room, the door clicking as it closes behind him.
“Arandur’s war-torn ass,” Reid mutters. He drops his bag onto one of the desks, and it wobbles on impact.
I focus on rereading our instructions. My studies, mentally rigorous as they were, never included anything like this—Father must have intended to fast-track me along an officer’s path and assumed the Academy’s physical training would be enough. I can’t remember the last time I lunged on purpose.
I glance up to find Reid removing his waistcoat and untucking his shirt.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m not doing all that dressed like this.” He finishes undoing his buttons, revealing the undershirt he wears beneath. And skin. So much skin, his neck and the dip between his collarbones completely exposed.
I quickly avert my gaze, looking toward the pile of desks.
“Trust me,” he says, “you’ll be dying in minutes if you keep all that on.”
He’s right, and unfortunately, I don’t have time to waste arguing with myself—not unless I want to do this all again next class. My fingers fumble as I unlace my bodice, but I can only bring myself to untuck my blouse and undo the top buttons of my collar. Heat pools in my belly as Caeo’s teasing throat flashes through my mind.
With a deep breath, I remove my shoes before meeting Reid in the center of the room with my candle, praying my cheeks haven’t gone completely red.
He rolls his eyes, then we begin.
Every minute is the longest of my life, my muscles burning like never before, until I collapse hard on the floor only seconds after getting into a plank position. Even with the modifications the professor allowed, I can’t complete all the exercises. Reid did, but looking at him lying on the floor as I flop myself over, he might as well be a puddle, too.
“I can’t move,” I say, panting. My underclothes are completely drenched, and I’ve long since abandoned my uniform in a pile on the floor. It’s hard to care about modesty when you can’t breathe. Even looking at Reid, the muscles of his arms and chest glistening in what should have been a scandalous display, I feel nothing but exhaustion.
“Why is he torturing us like this?” I moan. “This is supposed to be fire incanting, not bootcamp.”
“Theyarepreparing us to join the army,” Reid huffs, then pushes himself into a seated position. “But they usually ease people into this during second year. We just gotta hope all our professors didn’t come to the same solution for a last-minute lesson plan.”
“Don’t even joke about that.”
“I’m not. I’m rather worried they did.”
Closing my eyes, I attempt to slow my breathing.You can get through this. It’s only one class.Rebuttals flood my mind—this is my future, a taste of what’s coming if the war ever reignites—but I shut them away. Then Reid’s voice breaks through.
“Looked to me like you and Caeo were getting rather cozy last night.”
My eyes pop open, air catching in my throat as possible responses fly through my head.
