She asked me what I wanted to do.
I can’t read any sort of consent into her words just because that’s what I want to hear. Not when her heartbeats tell me she’s hurting. Not physically. Today may have been grueling, but it’s the battles in her mind and heart that have the power to destroy her.
Just as those battles destroyed me.
Turning away from her, I reach the open door. “The sun will set soon. I’ll be outside.”
I close the door firmly behind me and force myself to move.
Outside, Nara is waiting, but she needs food too, so I command her to leave. “Go. Hunt.”
When she races away, I take up position at the side of the door.
For the next hour, that’s where I remain, blocking my ears to every sound Thyra makes, the slosh of water as she soaks in the bath, her groan as she finally forces herself out of the cooling warmth, and the swish of material as she dries herself.
The staff arrive, and I take some bread from the dinner basket and place it inside the door while Thyra’s still in the bathing room.
Nara returns when the sun sinks and then we stand guard as the snowstorm starts, the shrieking wind unable to compete with the power of Thyra’s deep breathing when she finally falls asleep.
I force myself to stay awake for longer than normal, waiting for another assassin, willing Iker to test my resolve.
None arrives.
For the next five days, Thyra trains with Lilis all day while I keep watch outside Lilis’s quarters. After bringing Thyra back to the Rose Room each evening, I stay outside.
For the first two of those days, Thyra drags herself out of training at the end of each day, her muscles clearly cramped and sore, and she soaks in a bath for hours afterward.
For the following two of those days, she emerges much less hunched, her bathing time reducing. At some point during those two days, I realize she has stopped hiding her neck where she was bitten and the bite marks are no longer visible.
By Thyra’s sixth day of training, Lilis has moved on from strengthening exercises and defensive drills to direct attack maneuvers.
It seems too soon, but the only reason I don’t intervene is because Thyra herself doesn’t object. In fact, she welcomes the new training, actively voicing her wishes to Lilis.
As she trains hard all day, I hear every punch and kickagainst the training poles, along with every puff of air from her chest when she leaps and balances on Lilis’s training beams, only to jump off them and carry out some new attack maneuver, performing every difficult task Lilis sets for her.
Dusk is only an hour away when Lilis finally calls a stop to Thyra’s sixth day of training.
I expect to hear Thyra’s exhausted footfalls approaching down the hallway, given how much harder she worked today even than yesterday.
Instead, Lilis gives a command before Thyra can step from the arena. “Bathing room. Now. When you’re done, stay in the hallway until I summon you. I will speak to the king privately.”
Then, as if Thyra were giving signs of objecting, Lilis repeats, “Stay here in the hallway.” She huffs. “Please.”
“Okay, but are you sure?” Thyra asks, her voice quiet, controlled. Not puffed. “This is your private space.”
The sound of one of the doors opening meets my ears, at which Lilis says, “There. The door is open. Not private anymore.”
“Oh.” Thyra’s voice is brighter. “It’s nice in here.”
“Tell anyone and I’ll kill you.”
“You have my word.” Thyra’s voice fades as her footfalls sound again and then the door clicks closed.
Lilis’s pounding feet bring her to the front door, which opens in a rush before she slows down on the path and stops five paces away from me.
“Lord.” She bows. “May I speak with you? Privately?”
Her question is twofold. Not only does she want my permission, but we aren’t in a secluded location. I take a moment to confirm that nobody stands within the average fae’s earshot. “I will allow it.”
