He shook his head. “That’s not good enough. If you can’t use a sword, you can’t be an Arcanea.”
My temper flashed. “Who are you to say what I’m—”
“We’re practicing. Get your sword, Emma. Now.”
Clearly, he was done with babying me and was putting in some tough love. I knew he wouldn’t take no for an answer.
I bitched and moaned all the way back to the practice arena. When we got there, Ethan lifted his sword and said, “Try to disarm me.”
“You know this is a waste of—”
“Emma, I’m not asking.”
No, he wastelling, the ass. I let out a few swear words and charged him. The attempt was rushed, and my bad knee gave out. I fell to the ground, and Ethan approached, saying, “Try again.”
I stumbled to my feet. I raised my sword high and connected my blade with his a few times, before my knee gave out again and I toppled over.
Ethan watched as I got to my feet the second time. “This is useless. I have to learn everything all over again, because of my stupid knee!” I burst.
“Then I’ll re-teach you,” Ethan said. His tone was calm, like this wasn’t a big deal.
“How?” My voice ached with despair. “You can’t magically make me recover.”
“I know exactly what you need to do, because I can tell you how to stay off that leg.” Ethan pointed his sword at me. “It’s the same one I lost.”
“I don’t even know why you’re trying. It’s pointless.”
“Lord Lucien didn’t give up on me when I became an amputee. I’m not giving up on you,” Ethan noted firmly.
“You’re not him,” I growled.
“No, but I damn well know what it feels like to relearn everything after a leg injury,” Ethan said. “I didn’t quit. You’re not going to, either.”
I gave an angry noise, but Ethan didn’t cave. I came at him again, and our swords connected. He began barking out tips. “Pivot on your right leg, not your left. Ground yourself more than you attack. Wait for your opponent to come to you. And don’t use your wings. They’re a crutch.”
I scoffed. Using your wings during a sword fight was a good way to get them cut off.
I followed Ethan’s pointers and found that fighting was easier that way, but I was still way out of practice. I staggered backward when we finished a combination.
“Again,” Ethan said, the moment I’d had a chance to recover my breath.
“You’re really pushing your luck.”
“Yeah, because I know the only way to motivate you is to piss you off,” Ethan shot back. “Again.”
I ground my teeth. This type ofmotivationwouldn’t work with a lot of people. Delmare would storm off. Kiara would try to make herself as small as possible, and Odette would burst into tears.
But not me. Because I was an asshole who wanted to prove everyone wrong. At this point, I was existing to spite the gods and the world. I was damn good at it, too.
I hauled myself upward by use of my weapon and held out my sword. Ethan smiled. “Good. Watch your corners.”
Ethan and I kept practicing, until I started to limp around due to the pain in my knee, and he insisted we stop. We took a seat on a bench by the training arena, and a fresh surge of energy burst through me. It felt good to sweat and get some exercise again. I’d almost forgotten what it was like.
“You did good, but I know you can do better,” Ethan insisted. “Saturday, we’ll try again.”
I didn’t argue. If he wanted to train me all over again, I was up for it. He was right— I needed to be a good swordswoman. It was a crucial way of survival in our world. And though my knee was injured, I couldn’t give this up. Not with my quest looming on the horizon.
“I talked to Lady Magdalina,” I told him. “I confronted her about what she knows about the stones.”
