He considered Autumn’s question, unsure how to answer.
They call you the Savior. I am the Martyr.
Those words played on a loop in his head, constantly distracting him.
What he felt for Isobel couldn’t be put into words. It was all fever and magnetism, difficult to trust. Isobel Faywood was like oxygen—life-giving but reactive. With the heat that brewed between them, just the smallest spark would set off a wildfire.
Sean wasn’t sure he was ready to burn. He didn’t think he’d ever want to.
Autumn smiled. “You’re already in the flames.”
He expelled a long breath to stave off the panic of the inevitable. He struggled not to dwell on his future, on a prophecy that predicted he’d save the realm, on David’s possible role in it. On Isobel’s death.
Instead, he’d filled his days with training and his nights with sex, keeping his mind too exhausted to ruminate.
The thoughts came now though, and Autumn eyed him. “Sean?”
Behind her, sparkles filled the air. Golden sunlight streamed through gaps in the leaves above, dappling the ground. Her face was open and willing, but he wasn’t ready. He needed to know the details. Needed to read the words Isobel had only hinted at, but—not yet.
He still couldn’t shake the feeling that everyone was wrong. He wasn’t this person they believed him to be. He didn’t belong here.
Autumn nodded. “There’s no rush.”
“That’s it for today!” Cathaire called, making his way toward the gear table.
Isobel stood and stretched, and Sean meandered that way, Autumn following.
“Perhaps tomorrow we introduce a bit of archery,” Cathaire said after downing some water. “Anna has become quite skilled. She can show you the way of it.”
A glimmer of excitement woke. “Yeah? I’m down for that.”
Isobel stretched onto her toes to kiss away any minor injuries from training. She smiled. “Hi.”
He grinned back. “Hi.”
Anna appeared at Sean’s side, stripping her bracers off. She shot him a sassy look. “Archery, huh? We can start at the range we use for children.”
Funny, Sean Signed. He’d learned that one yesterday.
Sweat drenching the ends of his blond hair, David snatched the water pitcher and poured himself a cup. “What is the point of learning to shoot an arrow when humans have guns?”
A good question.
Anna raised a brow at him. “It teaches you to aim,” she said, as if this was obvious.
David didn’t look at her. “So do guns.”
“Archery is an ancient skill,” Cathaire said. “Mastery of the bow is mastery of the wind, of nature itself. Until you learn the bow, you cannot move to the Honor Guard. ’Tis tradition.”
“Ah, yes. Tradition.” David set his cup on the table. “The best way to ensure the past keeps ruining the future.”
Sean snorted. Autumn laughed outright. Bel rolled her eyes.
Cathaire sighed. “It will strengthen your arms and shoulders. It will improve your posture. And most importantly, I am telling you to do it.”
David’s bare smirk appeared, along with a slight glint in his green eyes. “Yes, Blademaster.”
Once his gear had been removed, David slipped away, murmuring something into Anna’s ear before he left. One by one, theothers departed, as did the crowd surrounding their training clearing, until Sean stood alone with Isobel.
