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“Are you sure?” Danae asked, chewing on her fingernails.
“You said nothing when you hemmed my clothes to fit.”
“Well, I said that I thought it was a bad idea.”
“You still did it.”
“Yes, but …”
“Danae.” Kerrigan whirled on the girl. “Look at me. Look at me right now. Do I look like a fraud? Use your power and tell me if there is a lie in my appearance. Tell me the truth of myself, and if you say I’m lying, then I’ll stay my hand.”
She swallowed. “I’m not supposed to use my powers.”
“I’m telling you to. Do it now. Look at me.”
“I …” She straightened.
The timidity fell off as she focused her attention fully on Kerrigan. Something shimmered between them. Kerrigan could feel Danae’s magic awakening. A muscle that she’d neglected.
She gave a soft, “Oh!” of recognition, and then it all washed away.
“Well?”
Danae nodded resolutely. “This is … this is you.”
“I know,” Kerrigan said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “And that was you. You can’t hide from it forever, or it will consume you.”
“My father would never let me …”
“He won’t let me either, but here I am.”
She bit her lip, as if considering the truth of that as well, but she made no move to contradict Kerrigan. Nor to agree with her either. She was still stalled by her upbringing. One day, she would find her own voice.
“I’m ready,” Kerrigan said.
Then, she kicked the door to the training facility open and stepped out into the sand. The gladiators turned as one to look at her. Theo’s jaw dropped at her appearance. She was no longer the Doma bride he’d envisioned. She was who she truly was. And none of the gladiators seemed to like it. Except perhaps Evander, who couldn’t seem to keep a smirk from his lips.
“I challenge you to combat,” Kerrigan declared.
The gladiators stared at her in utter confusion. Even Theo seemed stunned by her behavior.
“Who?” one of them asked. “Which one of us?”
A cruel smile twisted her lips as she stalked to the weapons container and unsheathed a blade that she’d scoped out earlier. She held it aloft, circling the crowd. “All of you.”
One of them laughed and another joined in. But she wasn’t laughing. Evander knew it too. He saw immediately that she was serious.
“The general won’t like this,” he said.
“The general isn’t here.”
Myron swaggered forward. “Put the pointy end somewhere you can’t hurt yourself.”
“Theo,” she crooned, ignoring Myron’s taunt, “you said you would teach me how to handle a sword. Now is your chance.”
She swung the sword with practiced ease. Her body was alive for the first time in weeks. The calluses she’d carefully developed on her hands waking up once more. The muscles shifted under her fitted pants, like remembering the movements of a dance. She was more accustomed to boots than her sandals, but they were a quality leather. Constantine hadn’t skimped on them for her. He surely hadn’t anticipated her using them in his training yard though. Oh well.
“Unless you’re scared.”
Theo shot her a questioning look before his usual swagger reappeared. He chuckled and reached for a sword. “All right, love. If that’s what you want.”
“Where do we begin?” she asked with a wink for his benefit. “The pointy end or the handle?”
Theo glanced at Evander, who nodded his head. “I’ll try to keep the pointy end from your pretty face.”
“I make no such promises.”
The men laughed. Good. They thought she was joking. They’d learn.
Theo rushed at her. Not as fast as she’d seen him with the men. Pity. She’d hoped that it’d take more than a minute to fight against him. Of course, she’d didn’t really believe the gladiators were a challenge. Maybe Myron or Cordon. She’d never seen Evander spar, but she suspected he and Constantine would be a different story. She wouldn’t have to fight them today to make her point.
Theo was a delight. He was the nicest person she’d met thus far in Domara. A little crude. But he treated her like anyone else. The relentless flirt.
She was almost sorry when she sidestepped his thrust, pivoted, and kicked his legs out from under him, sending him sprawling into the sand. He came up, coughing up sand. His eyes were wide and hurt. She smiled down at him. She hadn’t even needed her sword.
“Who’s next?”
Another gladiator rushed forward. He had better footwork than Theo. It wasn’t surprising, considering Theo had hated the pacing lessons. He avoided them to bulk up more. It made him handsomer. It hadn’t helped him in the fight.
Still, she moved with the grace and fluidity that had been instilled in her from her training. A small part of her brain had worried that those movements had come from her magic. That a part of her had been utterly severed and she’d never be whole again. She still had that fear. But her training was complete thanks to years in the House of Dragons, sword fighting and endurance with Fordham, and dragon training with all the masters of the Society. They had honed a weapon. And her magic had only been a part of what made her excellent.
