The Queen's Line (Inheritance of Hunger #1) - Kathryn Moon Page 0,91

air, before quickly going into an attack again. The difference was clear between them, Bryony was fast and aggressive, but her face was red with exertion and she was sweating and slowing, while Thao moved only when he needed to, efficient and graceful. With her next strike, Thao caught the crook of her arm with his, swinging her around until her back hit his chest with an audible oof and the flat side of his blade rested against her throat.

"You're moving too much, wasting energy," Thao said.

"If I don't move, and you don't move, are we really sparring?" Bryony asked tartly, breaths gasping.

I fought myself, but Thao only laughed. They were close, and they seemed comfortable with one another's bodies, but also uncertain of each other. Thao lowered his own sword slowly, and Bryony's head turned in his direction.

She saw me first, and stepped away.

"Mr. Farraque," she said, and I fought the urge to glare. It was what she always called me, her and everyone else.

"Daniel, please, Your Highness," I said, bowing for her.

Thao whispered something, too quiet for me to hear, but I understood the meaning as Bryony shook her head.

"No, go on. I'm fine."

Thao nodded and sheathed his sword, swinging the harness over his shoulder and heading for the exit with a cursory glare in my direction.

"What did you need?" she asked, rolling her shoulders.

She was wearing fencing pants and what must've been a shirt from one of her Chosen, and it was a curiously tempting sight. I knew two kinds of women mainly. The gentlemen's daughters who wanted me whispering filth in their ear but never their beds, and the whores my father had introduced me to to slake my appetites. This princess was an entirely foreign creature from what I'd seen so far.

"I need nothing but to serve you, Your Highness," I offered, painting on a smile as I approached her. "I only came to say that the word is out in the villages and the festival is already considered to be a success."

Her brows raised. "A success? It's still weeks away."

"Your people have faith in you," I said, finally earning a smile.

"I'm happy if they are," she said, and my steps paused.

She's being sincere, isn't she? I glanced over my shoulder and realized we were still alone. Thao had left, and the guard remained outside in the hall. Here is your opportunity.

"I didn't recognize the fighting style," I asked, moving closer to the wall, finding the fencing swords resting in their places and picking one up that looked weighted for me. I loved fencing. It was one of the rare avenues in schooling where I could excel against the wealthy—and legitimate—peers, without anyone trying to stomp me back down into the dirt.

"Thao is training me in inukat." She'd been wiping her palms on her pants, rocking her head on her long throat to work the tension out, and she paused, watching me with the sabre. "You fence?"

"Mm, in school."

"And you prefer sabre," she said, eyeing it with an almost predatory interest.

A real smile spread over my lips. "Have you been missing a proper match?"

She glanced to the door, but only for a second before hurrying to the wall, grabbing up a whip of blade and setting the broader sword aside. "Maybe a little. One touch winner?"

My eyes widened, and I glanced down at myself. I was fresh off my horse, and she was only half dressed for a match.

"I won't scratch you, just a little poke," Bryony said grinning, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

I laughed and rolled my shoulders. If I put so much as a scratch on the princess, I'd probably guarantee my head on a platter. But she wasn't really so delicate, was she? I could act defensively and let her win, see if it gained favor. Or…

I stepped back, sinking into position, knees bent and blade extended, body balanced. Bryony flashed me a feral little smile that sent heat running through me, and then moved into position.

"At the ready," I said, watching the slow release of her breath, the subtle shift in her shoulders. "Begin."

She was lightning quick, it was her obvious advantage against me, but I met her at center, blades clashing and tangling. Any consideration I'd had to let her win went out the window in the sudden spark of the match, and I took an opening against her left rib without thinking.

She gasped, and we jumped back from one another. I thought at first I'd used too