AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Then I got distracted by the smell of the freshly baked bread. My stomach growled, and I picked up a slice, not sure what to expect. The bread was covered in a crusty layer of sugar mixed with cinnamon and other spices. It was comfort food, and after taking a tentative nibble, I leaned into it.
My second bite was much bigger, and I was still chewing when the landlady sat down across from me. “Lord Bleddyn told me what happened. You must be careful and always carry a weapon on your body.”
I swallowed the sweet lump of dough. “Thank you. I appreciate your advice.”
I took another bite, waiting for her to speak. Olwen stared at my face with her silver-white gaze. Fae eyes seemingly lightened with age. Maybe she was older than I’d thought, even though her posture was upright, and she moved easily.
The pause was growing, its weight pressing on me. But before I finished chewing, she said, “He told me you come from a different world. Were your parents human? No—” she interrupted herself. “One of them had to have been Fae.”
“My mother.” The words were out of my mouth before I realized what I’d revealed.
Olwen nodded, a faint smile playing on her lips. “I would not be surprised if your mother was once part of the prince’s clan. The likeness is uncanny.”
Again, she’d brought up my resemblance to the royal family. Before I could ask any more questions, Bleddyn returned. Casting a regretful glance at my empty plate, I resisted the urge to lick my finger and swipe up the crumbs.
There was another thing Bleddyn could help me with, actually. The mistress’s words had made me think. It would be useful to be able to defend myself. Now was as good a time as any to ask.
“Bleddyn, Mistress Olwen suggested I need a weapon so I wouldn’t be as helpless as I was earlier. Can you show me how to use a sword?”
The Fae warrior stared at me as if I’d asked him to strip naked in the bar room. “I cannot teach you how to use a sword. You are a female.”
Oh no, he did not just say that.I bristled and returned his glare. “Excuse me? In my world, I would call that sexist. Of course, women can swing swords.”
He shook his head. “I should have phrased it differently. Yes, females can fight. But you cannot use a sword.”
Now I was getting angry. “Why can’t I use a sword, Bleddyn?”
His ears turned red at the tips. Clearly, he wasn’t used to being challenged. His voice sounded irritated, as if he was hanging on to his patience. “Because you are soft and have never held a weapon in your hand.”
He wasn’t wrong there. My anger left me like air from a deflating balloon. But I could always learn, couldn’t I? “Would you train me?”
A calculating expression entered his eyes. He rubbed his chin with his thumb and forefinger and said slowly, “I suppose I could, but it would not be a fast process. Warriors begin training as children, and you are not a child.”
I didn’t miss the way his gaze swept past my chest. Before I could respond, he turned away, calling over his shoulder, “Follow me. I shall demonstrate the craft.”
My excitement propelled me to my feet. I rushed after him through a backdoor into a small yard behind the tavern. A wall surrounded the perimeter, so nobody from outside could see in.
Bleddyn waited until I took a seat on a bench, then drew his sword from its scabbard.
“Watch me.” He lifted his weapon, and from one moment to the next, he became quicksilver, moving with breathtaking speed and precision.
Sweet Jesus.I literally salivated as his abs contracted and his thigh muscles tightened during the twists and turns. When he was finished, he barely breathed heavily. I, on the other hand, was so turned on by his skill that I had to press my thighs together.
He went through the entire sequence again, but this time in slow motion, and I realized what it reminded me of. A friend of mine had been into karate, and I’d often watched her train. It was a choreographed dance, a precise pattern of movements, that became second nature.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I jumped up and asked eagerly, “Can you teach me how to do this?”
He grinned, replacing the concentration that had hardened his eyes to cold metal coins with a more relaxed expression.
He handed me another, smaller sword. It was still bigger and heavier than I’d expected, and I nearly dropped it. Re-gripping the hilt, I swung the weapon, trying to slash the air as he’d shown me. At the zenith of the arc, the centrifugal force tore the grip from my fingers, and the sharp tip missed Bleddyn’s foot only because he jumped out of the way.
“Oops,” I said, smiling sheepishly. “I’ll hold it tighter next time.”
I bent down to pick up the sword, but he was faster and held it out of my reach.
“I believe it would be safer for both of us if you used a small stick until you are familiar with the movement.”
My heart sank at his disapproval, feeling irrationally rejected. But he was right. After all, I’d nearly cut off his toes. Searching the perimeter of the yard, he found a thin piece of firewood, roughly the same length as the training sword. He pulled a cloth from his pocket and wrapped it around one end, creating a makeshift handle.
