“No, no. But my wards are weaker now. They don’t keep out creatures like they should. The strength of the land reflects the strength of its ruler, and right now, my estate is weak.”
I nodded. “I’m sorry about what happened with your parents.”
With his eyes boring into mine, I thought I saw a hesitation, something he didn’t share but that cut through him. Reagan returned to the pages of his book without replying, as if he knew I’d noticed and tried to hide it.
I wasn’t sure if I’d read him correctly, but even if there was something he wasn’t saying, I didn’t want to pry. Not anymore.
And neither of us spoke again until Reagan rose to his feet.
“I’m more tired than I thought. I’ll leave you to enjoy the study. Good night, Jane Darling.”
He walked around the table, no smile in sight, leaving his books behind.
Not sure if he would hear me as he rushed out, I only murmured, “Good night, Reagan.”
???
Grunting noises echoed from somewhere the next morning.
The sound stalled me on the staircase for a heartbeat before I moved to investigate. The grunts guided me through an empty hallway on the ground floor.
A loud thud followed a woman’s grunt, coming from behind the door across from me, making me freeze. I pushed the door slightly, trying to be quiet.
Gwinifer jerked back, dodging a strike, her fists raised as she stared straight at someone I couldn’t see, but based on the arms and the height, it looked like a man.
I stepped inside, creaking open the wooden door. Gwinifer paused mid-move, standing upright just as Reagan glanced over his shoulder at me. Her eyes darted back, and in a single, fluid motion, she brought him crashing to the floor.
The crack of his body hitting the ground was muffled by a rubber mat, and she was on him in an instant, her weight pinning the mage before he could even draw breath.
“Better work on that focus, brother,” she panted faintly, with a knee securing his arm and the rest of her body holding him down.
Reagan, despite his current situation, chuckled hoarsely. “That was good, Gwin,” he rasped. “Shame you’re so smug.”
He jerked his head up with obvious skill, hitting his sister’s chin. He flipped her over, reversing their positions. His knee pressed into her side, arm braced against her throat.
“I win,” he gloated.
With a wince, Reagan pulled away from her, raising his arm and bringing his elbow close to his face.
“Is that a burn?” I asked, and indeed his skin had a raw, angry mark.
“Gwinifer cheats. And doesn’t know when to admit defeat,” he said, healing his own forearm.
Gwinifer stood up, smiling widely. “He is a sore loser.”
I stood there, unsure whether to leave or stay. But I was rather impressed by how skilled they seemed to be at fighting.
“What exactly are you doing?” I asked.
“Training,” Reagan answered, rolling his shoulders.
“For?”
“Waltzing,” Gwinifer said from the corner of the room, tipping a water bottle to her mouth. “Combat drill. It’s part of battle mage training.”
“Battle mages don’t use their powers for combat?” I asked.
“They do, but spells might take a few seconds to wield,” Reagan explained this time, standing up and brushing some dust off his short-sleeved black shirt. “And sometimes, you don’t get those seconds. So physical fighting is one of the disciplines required for the position.”
