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“I understand now, why you were chopping down trees,” she huffs out.
She still thrums with pent-up energy, and I know my next words will be a mistake before I utter them. But that doesn’t stop me.
“Care for a different sort of challenge?”
“Looking for a rematch?” She arches a perfectly shaped eyebrow, a response to my challenge burning in her eyes. I try not to notice, try not to remember the first time she let her guard slip entirely, showed me every inch of her brilliant competitive spirit when she sank that throwing star into the wall.
Why let me see that when it could have given her away? Was it really just to show off?
But I think back to the way she hadn’t let her gaze stray from mine, and I don’t believe it. She hadn’t wanted the festival to see. She had wantedmeto see.
To see her skill. To seeher.
I’m not sure anymore, but I know that even if we weren’t stuck in this mess together, something in me can’t quite walk away before I find out.
“I had something else in mind.” I turn around without waiting to see if she follows, but of course she does.
I lead her to the training room where I spar with Gunnar, and the curiosity on her expression gives way to a wary sort of satisfaction.
“Are you choosing weapons, or am I?” She takes a moment to survey the assorted weaponry before turning for my response.
“I thought we could start with some sparring staffs, and see what happens from there.” I say the words casually, though I’m feeling anything but.
Locking the door behind me, I move to light a fire in the corner of the room. Gunnar and I never need the heat, but I know Zaina will.
I tell myself I just want to see what she’s made of, want to see every ounce of what she’s been holding back all this time, because that makes sense. Surely, I’m not simply that desperate to have her body close to mine again when I’ve spent night after night with her several feet and an insurmountable world away from me.
She assesses me for a long moment, like she’s trying to figure out the motives I still haven’t sorted out myself. Then she nods, her hands going to the tie at her cloak.
I’m not sure what I thought she was wearing under there, but I am unprepared for the sight of her fitted two-piece nightclothes.
Except for the day she caught me off guard by being barely dressed in one of my shirts, she is always in a bulky dressing gown or underneath mountains of blankets. Not standing three feet from me in an outfit that forms to every single one of her curves.
I have the irrational urge to tell her never mind, to turn around and leave and never look back, but my pride wouldn’t let me, even if I could force myself.
She removes her ridiculous sodden shoes, hanging her cloak over one of the weapon hooks. When I follow suit, her gaze lingers on the laces at my shirt, and I know exactly how terrible of an idea this is before she even lifts her eyes to mine.
“All right, then. Let’s get started.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Zaina
Itake a few moments to stretch my frozen limbs before running through one of the basic drills I performed every morning for over fifteen years. My body is thrumming, like it’s grateful to finally move in ways it hasn’t for months.
Einar stretches a bit, but he is more focused on watching me from the corner of his eye. He gets to his feet, moving to the center of the room and taking on a waiting stance.
I allow myself a final stretch before crossing the distance and meeting him there. Lightning crackles in the space between our bodies, but all he says is, “Begin.”
He leads out with an attack that isn’t particularly swift or strong, testing me, just as he did the first time we played chess. Or baiting me, by using only a fraction of his strength.
But I am not so easily played. I sidestep his attack and give him an equally lukewarm thrust of my staff. Before I can ready myself for another basic assault, he lunges at me in a blur of motion.
Without a thought, I launch into a series of backflips and handsprings to evade the sharp jab and put enough distance between us to counterattack.
A half smile tempts his lips, but it is more bitterness than amusement.
“You really are phenomenal.” The words leave his mouth on a breath before he stalks toward me, whirling his staff.
