“Assassination attempts?”
“Or accidents, or tests, or whatever my father decided to call them,” the prince said. “If the princes were going to fight, he wanted the fight to be good.”
“What a—” I began, and had some creative insults in mind. But then I remembered the company. “Uniqueform of training.”
“Well covered,” the prince murmured.
I glanced at Galen, who was sneering at me, lip curled. “You’re a thief?”
“Among other things.”
He made a sound of disgust. “Scoundrel.”
“I’m a bond servant and I do what I have to do. The laws of Carethia made us scoundrels. Blame the Lys’Careths.”
“I don’t steal.”
“No, you’re a killer by trade,” I pointed out. “None of us are clean.”
That had him pressing his lips tightly together, which I took as a victory.
“If you’d both just give us a moment,” the prince said.
Red gave me a nod. Galen gave me a look, and they both ambled back down the hill.
For a moment, the prince and I looked at each other, something heady and dangerous shimmering in the air around us. A corner of his mouth lifted with masculine pride.
“Is there anything you’d like to say?”
He probably wanted me to tell him that I’d liked what I’d seen, or that his body was absolute perfection. Both of which were true, but there was no way in Oblivion I was going to admit it. I considered giving a silly response, but there was an opportunity here, and dangerous times meant a girl had to take advantage.
“Yes. Teach me something.”
“What do you want to learn?” Red asked when the prince and I had joined him and Galen on the training ground. Reeds shushed at the edges of the river as they moved in the breeze. Horses munched leisurely in a tall pasture on the other side, the palace’s eastern wall visible behind them. A reminder of the limits of our freedom.
“We’re not teaching you how to fight,” Galen muttered.
“I don’t want to learn how to fight. That’s Wren’s job.”
“So what do you want to learn?” Red asked.
I considered. “How about how to disarm someone?”
“Red will teach you how to disarm a man with a sword,” the prince said. “And in exchange…”
“What?” I prompted.
“I’m not sure yet. I’ll think of something.”
“I’m not agreeing if you don’t specify.”
Red bit back a laugh.
“I promise on the crown that what I ask won’t hurt or endanger you or your friends.”
That he’d begun to understand me so well put an itch at the back of my neck. It felt like a vulnerability. And gods knew I didn’t need more vulnerabilities.
“All right,” I said. “Show me how to disarm someone.”
