Page 94 of Embers of Ruin

The first swing comes from my left. I catch it before it reaches me, the impact rattling through my arms instead of knocking me flat. Mazelle follows with another strike, then another, testing rather than attacking. My footing holds. I even manage to force her back a single step before she twists beneath my guard and taps the flat of her blade against my ribs.

“Dead,” she says flatly.

“Seven hells! I was doing so well.”

“You did last a little longer. I suppose that counts for something,” she shrugs, repositioning herself.

“I appreciate that you found a new way to insult me. It does so much for my ego, so thank you.”

“The fact that you consider improvement an insult explains a great deal. Maybe you do need to spend a little more time thinking.”

Before I can think of a response, a familiar cold settles across the back of my neck.

“Lieutenant.”

Mazelle lowers her sword and settles into a deep bow.

"Your Majesty."

I glance over my shoulder, watching as Thorin crosses the garden with his hands clasped behind his back, Onyx a few paces behind him. The partially living tree stirs as Thorin passes, its newly formed leaves trembling in the wake of the shadows that follow him through the gardens. They curl over the stone paths before slipping away again as if they know better than to touch the new growth.

His gaze finds mine first and lingers, just a moment before he speaks. “You’ve improved.”

The words catch me so off guard that I answer before suspicion has a chance to intervene.

“I—thank you.”

His mouth curves imperceptibly when Mazelle clears her throat.

“I said she improved yesterday.”

Ouch. That stung. No one fucking asked you for your assessment, Mazelle. I want to say it aloud, but keep it to myself, choosing to sneer at her instead.

“You did,” Thorin agrees.

“You didn't believe me.”

“I believed your assessment, Lieutenant.” Double ouch. That stings a little worse.

He didn’t think I was getting better? Mazelle knew that comment would sting—that’s exactly why she said it. I’m convinced she says things just to provoke me, but I refuse to give her the satisfaction.

“But you wanted to see it yourself, Your Majesty.”

“Indeed, I did.”

I fold my arms and huff. “Am I standing here, or am I a horse you’re considering buying? Hi! My name’s Lyra.” I pause for dramatic effect, waving a hand with an overly bright, thoroughly sarcastic grin. “I’m standing right next to both of you, and I can hear this entire conversation you're having about me.”

Thorin's attention returns to me. “You bite considerably more than a horse, Lady Tarethyn.”

“Ah, yes. I’ll take that as another compliment.”

“Take it as you will.” He smiles, and the change is startling.

The tension I never realized he carried melts away, and for a heartbeat he looks lighter. Freer, almost.

Gods…I don't think I've ever seen him look this relaxed.

Thorin studies me, though not with the intensity he usually reserves for training. There’s something quieter in his expression now, as if he’s measuring not my magic but the person learning to wield it.