The Queen's Assassin (Queen's Secret #1) - Melissa de la Cruz Page 0,64
my mouth a bit before chewing. With the smoky flavor of fresh-caught fish, it’s practically a feast.
After we finish eating, Cal picks up a stick and begins using it to trace a circle in the dirt. He stands back and looks at it, then tosses the stick aside. “Grab your sword, Lady Shadow.”
“Why?” I ask, suspicious. Even though it’s amusing to be called that, I’m not quite sure what to make of the invitation.
“Time for practice,” he says.
I laugh. “I don’t need practice.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be my apprentice?”
“Yes, but—”
“Then you need practice. You’ve been lucky so far, but you can’t rely on throwing rocks and hiding in trees.”
“You forget you’re speaking to a mage. And what about the dire emergency of letting my arm heal?” I say, teasing.
“If you knew anything about sword fighting,” Cal says, “you’d know that in a situation like this”—he tosses me a sword—“you’re supposed to use the other arm.” I catch it in my left hand.
I suppose I asked for this.
“Now, when using your nondominant arm, you want to . . .” He comes at me, swinging the sword. An attempt to take me off guard. But I come right back at him, holding him off. His eyes widen when I do.
“Clever,” he says, stepping away. “I thought you hurt your dominant arm.”
“I did.” I grin.
He narrows his eyes.
“I’m trained to use both.” I shrug, though it hurts my arm a bit.
We skirmish for a while, and he teaches me a few moves and counterattacks, and even with my injured arm, I’m able to pick up the lessons. He’s a good teacher, surprisingly patient, and takes the time to explain the thinking behind each parry. “Once you have a foundation, it will come naturally,” he says.
He proposes a duel to show him what I’ve learned, and even though I fight my hardest, he disarms me in a flash, and holds two swords at my chin. He is quick, deadly, and merciless. I saw it during our escape, but his arrogance these past few days has distracted me. It’s been too easy to forget the man I am dealing with. I can’t help but tremble at sword point.
“Hey,” he says, drawing them back quickly. “It’s just a game.”
I take a deep, shaky breath. I thought I was good enough for the Guild, but if this duel is any indication, the truth is maybe I’m not. Maybe I’ll never be the fighter that he is.
He throws the swords down. “That’s all for today.”
His weapon hits the ground and I find I can suddenly breathe again. I’ve come back to myself. “Okay. Your turn.”
“My turn? For what?”
“Lessons. If we’re going to be posing as aristocrats from Argonia, then you have to learn how to behave at a royal court.”
“As I’ve already explained, Lady Shadow, I’ve spent a lot of time at court. I’m already well-versed in the art of bowing and keeping my mouth shut.”
“Ha! But have you read Crumpets and Cravats?”
“Sorry, no, my missions for the queen don’t leave much time for novels.”
“Well, when you’re an aristocrat, nobody expects you to keep your mouth shut. Quite the opposite. The more interesting you are, the more they’ll like you. But the art of communication is about so much more than talking. For example: What does it mean when someone bows to you, but they only bend at the waist?” All those lessons with Missus Kingstone are turning out to be useful after all.
“Easy. You outrank them but you’re only titled, not a royal.”
He’s right. “That was just to get you warmed up. How about . . . ? Oh, I know. You’re invited to a masked ball. A woman—a countess, let’s say—is standing across from you. She flicks her fan open, twice, then puts it away. What does that mean?”
“What does that mean?” he echoes. He thinks for a moment and then shrugs. “That she has no use for her fan.”