“Hold.” He barked out the demand, and all across the field, training stopped. Guards began to bow in my direction.
“Your Highness,” I said, more politely than I had ever saidtwo words in my entire life.
A flicker of eather appeared in his cool gray eyes, joining the wary gleam to his stare as he faced me fully. He briefly glanced at Saion and then snapped his attention back to me. “Are you taking a walk?”
Taking a walk? Like the fine Ladies of Lasania would stroll through the gardens of Wayfair? I almost laughed. “I would like to know if it’s possible for Saion to train with me.”
“Whoa.” Saion’s head whipped toward me. “I told her that wasn’t possible.”
“He’s afraid you will gut him if he does,” I continued, aware of Ector’s and Rhain’s slow approach. “Which I’m hoping is an exaggeration to hide the fact that he’s simply nervous that I will be far better with a sword than he is.”
“That is not the reason,” Saion shot back. “What you said first was the truth. I’msimplynervous that my insides will end up on my outsides.”
“Why would you be worried?” I challenged, clasping my hands together. “I doubt you will hurt me; therefore, Nyktos would have no reason to harm you.” I looked at the Primal. “Correct?”
Nyktos said nothing, but the hue of his eyes deepened.
“I wouldn’t hurt you intentionally,” Saion started, “but I am a god.”
“Congratulations,” I cut in, mimicking his earlier tone.
Saion’s eyes narrowed. “Therefore, I’m far stronger than you.”
“Strength has very little to do with skill when it comes to a sword,” I said.
“She’s actually right,” Ector chimed in.
“Ector.” Saion turned. “Can you shut the—?”
I snapped forward, grasping the hilt of one of Saion’s swords and pulling it free. Saion spun toward me, his eyes widening as Ector choked on a laugh. “I have a sword to use,” I announced, facing Nyktos and smiling up at him. “There’s a multitude of logical reasons for why I should continue my training. But since your guards are too nervous to train with me, then shouldn’t it be you?”
“Hell,” Rhain murmured.
I lifted the sword, leveling it at Nyktos’s throat. “Or are youalso…nervous?”
Silence descended in the courtyard as Nyktos stared down at me. Wisps of eather began churning in eyes that had heated to quicksilver. “Nervous is the last thing I’m feeling at the moment.”
Ector cleared his throat as he eyed the packed dirt.
“Good.” I didn’t allow my mind to take what he said straight into the gutter. “Then you should lift your sword.”
The only thing that lifted was one corner of his lip. “And if I don’t?”
“You will find yourself in grave need of a feeding.”
His eyes became a fire of Primal essence, ignited by either anger or something I chose not to think about at the moment. “You do realize that most men would take their soon-to-be Consort holding a sword to their throat in front of their guards as a great offense.”
“Which is one of the reasons I find most men to be easily offended.” The sword’s hilt felt good against my palm, the weight welcome. “But you’re not like most men, are you?”
“I suppose not since most would send their wives to their chambers for such an act.”
“Soon-to-be wife,” I corrected softly. “And if you order me to return to my chambers, my grip on this sword may slip an inch.”
“Accidentally, of course.”
Aware that we’d gained quite an audience, I smiled tightly. “Intentionally.”
Nyktos’s short laugh was rough, throaty and…warm. “You want to train with me? What are you waiting for?”