He sighed. "You need to steel yourself. Even if you slayed a dragon outside Tsuyan's walls, they still wouldn't think you were good enough."
Pinching my nose, I exhaled angrily. “Do you know how many times Liam impressed Father with passing grades while I failed to move him with soaring marks?” I threw my hands up. "Why would the stodgy men in Tsuyan be any different?"
A smile curled Reese's lips. He looked strangely handsome, all smudged and muddy and stripped down to only a white shirt.
"They won't be," he said. "And when the lords of Muirashi try to slip poison in your drink, I'll shove my sword through their mouths.”
"Oh. Well, I'd settle for a good talking to . . ." I cleared my throat, glancing down. A black glove still covered his right arm. "Why do you always wear that, anyway?"
Reese flexed his hand and glanced around. I knew that look—Liam wore it all the time.
He was searching for a convincing lie.
"Because . . . " He trailed off. "Because it makes me more mysterious." Mouth twitching into a smile, he turned and walked away.
I trudged after him. "What happened to dispelling the mysteries?"
"We will." He glanced back. "More clothes will come off eventually. It's inevitable.”
I stopped in my tracks. " . . . what? Why is that inevitable?"
Reese stared at me, deadly serious. "Have you ever heard of Terishal mud-wrestling?"
"You're deflecting."
"I'm not. Agendra challenges all the Paragons to mud-wrestling. You'll be no exception."
"Oh," I breathed, disappointed.
Why was I disappointed? I should be appalled. Mud-wrestling was not the sort of thing a lady of Tirnanog should partake in.
Reese grinned, stepping closer. "Disappointed?" He stood a breath away, arms folded. "What were you hoping I'd say?"
What was I hoping he'd say? Flushing, I focused on curling a lock of hair around my finger. "I'd rather watch you two mud-wrestling, honestly." I sniffed. "Sounds entertaining."
"Oh, it is." He tilted his head, red waves falling over his eyes. "Feeling a bit better now?"
I blinked. Had he been trying to cheer me up? My distress had been carefully tucked beneath a mask, yet he'd seen through it like polished glass.
Had an unknown god of perfection molded this man in its image?
"We've done what we can for these people," he said. "We should?—”
Reese grabbed my shoulder and pushed me behind him. Drawing his blade, he planted himself in front of me.
A horse thundered through the mud, bearing a young man with dark hair and bright blue eyes.
He wore the dark blue robes of a Shatterblade—but no armor. His eyes widened when he saw Reese.
"P-Paragon Tiernan?" He asked.
His horse took a step back, frightened by the blood and corpses.
Reese lowered his blade. "What are you doing here?"
"Word came that you changed course. I was sent to find you." The young man swallowed. "Minsawa has fallen, my lord. The survivors are retreating to Tsuyan."
"Fallen?" Reese repeated. "What about Ishii?”
