He had her repeat her draw over and over until she was drenched with sweat, her muscles screaming from the unaccustomed exertion. “Set aside your spectacles for the next part,” he said. “I’m not sure there’s a lens maker left in Mudaire, so we shouldn’t risk them unnecessarily.”
It only went downhill from there. He chased her around the room, barking orders and battering at her sword, hands, wrists, and arms, until she was too flustered to remember anything she’d read, all of it exacerbated by the deimos circling and screaming above, which he barely seemed to notice.
“Move your feet,” he snapped, and she shuffled sideways, trying to parry while not tripping over her own boots. “Not like that. Pick them up!” He scrubbed a hand through his hair, clearly as frustrated as she was.
She looked at her feet, trying to will them into behaving, and his padded sword caught her across the forearm. “By the Six, how are you planning to block a blow staring at the floor?”
“How am I supposed to do anything with you yelling at me?” she retorted. “I’m only trying to do what your stupid books said to do.”
“I told you you couldn’t learn how to fight from a book. And you’re doing a fine job proving it.”
She blinked furiously. She did not cry. Not ever. And she refused to debase herself by doing so in front of him. Instead, she let her anger take hold, and with one violent motion she flung the blade end-over-end across the room, where it thudded against the wall.
Killian eyed the shadows where it had landed. “Out of curiosity, will you be allowed to carry a sword when you return to Celendor?”
A vision of her gliding into a dinner party in a silk dress and high heels with a sword belted around her waist floated up in her imagination, and an involuntary laugh tore from her lips. “No.”
“Knives?”
“It would be frowned upon.”
“Never mind frowns. If Malahi can hide two blades up her skirts, then so can you.”
Lydia bit the insides of her cheeks, wondering how he knew that particular piece of information.
“I think it best we move on to the weapons you’ll always have with you.”
Without further explanation, he dropped his blade and swung at her with his fist.
Lydia dodged, feeling his fist brush against one of her braids.
Killian laughed. “I knew those instincts were in there.”
“You just tried to hit me!” She stared at him in indignation.
“Your point?”
There was a gleam in his eye that suggested he knew exactly what her point was but fully intended on making her say it. “A gentleman should not hit a woman.”
“Which liar told you I was a gentleman?”
She gave him a flat stare.
“Fine, fine,” he said, circling her. “What about in such instances where the woman has requested said gentleman teach her how to fight?”
“Surely you can teach the mechanics without trying to blacken my eyes.”
“That’s about as good as you trying to learn from a diagram in a book.”
Lydia bit the insides of her cheeks, annoyed, though she wasn’t sure whether she was annoyed with him or with herself. “I don’t want it to hurt.”
“Fighting hurts. Part of learning to fight means learning to deal with just how much it can hurt.” He rocked on his heels, brown eyes fixed on hers. “So what will it be, Lydia? Do you want to be a lady who needs someone like me to watch her back, or do you want to be a lady who can take care of herself?”
She glared at him. “You know the answer.”
Killian gave a slow nod suggesting that he had known but had also hoped she might change her mind. “If it’s what you want.”
“It is.”
“So be it. Now get your hands up in front of you to protect yourself and try to hit me.”
A slight thrum of fear filled her stomach, because she’d been struck before. By Vibius. By Lucius. By the women who’d attacked her in the shelter. Lydia was not keen to experience that sort of pain again. But as much as she was afraid of the pain, she was more terrified of the helplessness she’d felt in those moments. And because she never wanted to feel that way again, Lydia took a deep breath and swung wildly with her fist.
Killian blocked the blow, then caught her with his own just below the ribs. Lydia stumbled, gasping for air, because it hurt. But her blood was racing, and she found the