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Essos drops onto the edge of the bed. “When I get my hands on her, she’s going to wish she hadn’t crossed me. Tomorrow, we’re going to try this training thing again.”
“How about tonight we focus on seeing how close we can get?” I tease, putting my bookmark in. Nothing like a well-written threesome to get you in the mood.
Essos raises his eyebrow and grins. “I bet we can get pretty close.”
He gets up, prowling across the room toward me, and I can’t help my answering grin.
* * *
The next day,we try training again, heading out to the training arena uninterrupted.
Essos and I had a lazy morning in bed, until we heard something shatter in Finn’s room. That got us up and going. The longer we delay, the worse things get all around.
“The amount of power I used to make those vine guards knocked me flat on my ass. I don’t want to be that vulnerable, and I don’t know if I can even come close to using that amount of power again,” I tell Essos as I stretch.
“We will find new ways for you to do what you want without using the same amount of power. I want to teach you to work smarter, not harder.”
With that, Essos creates a sword made from shadows the way I make them from vines. There’s no hesitation when he swings it at my neck. I can parry or die—not that he would let that happen, but Essos is counting on my fight or flight response to kick in.
I create a sword and deflect just in time, only maybe not, because his sword grazes my cheek, and wetness trickles out. I watch him fight his urge to react to the cut before he swings the sword again.
Since he’s fighting with actual steel and I’m not, I have just enough time to reinforce my sword with more wood before blocking him again. So begins this dance that has me on the defense. Every so often, I manage to impress the man. My movements lack the grace I had when I wasn’t pregnant, my defensive moves more lumbering than artful.
Essos stumbles when I manage to cut him behind the knee. He’s so proud, I can feel it emanating off him in waves, but he doesn’t let up, not until I’m pinned under him with the blade at my throat.
“I let you do that,” I pant, tying to ease air into my lungs. Essos doesn’t have his full weight on me, but he has settled himself below my abdomen somewhat uncomfortably.
“Of course, you did, love.” Essos tosses his sword to the side, letting it dissolve back to its natural smoky state before it disappears altogether. He holds out a hand to help me to my feet. I gladly take it, letting my own weapon dissolve to dust.
When I’m upright, I sway, the movement having been too fast. Essos’s hand finds the small of my back, and he holds me against him until I feel less lightheaded. He presses a kiss to my forehead.
“I’m really fine,” I swear, not at all feeling it.
“You feel warm,” Essos hedges, loosening his grip on me. When he’s sure I’m able to stand on my own, he lets go.
“Is that what you’re doing every time you kiss my forehead—checking if I’m feverish?”
A glass of water appears in Essos’s hand, and he holds it out to me. “No, not every time. Excuse me for trying to keep my girls safe.”
I drink the water greedily before reducing the glass to sand and raising a new weapon.
Essos shakes his head. “No. I want you to practice fighting with your powers, and I have a gift for that.” He drops a small satchel into my hands.
“What’s this?” I ask. It’s about the size of a large coin purse, but the insides move smoothly against each other, like a bag of rice. I don’t need Essos to explain the contents to me. I can feel them calling out.
“They’re seeds,” he says, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.
I look up at him, my expression telling him,No shit. “I know that, but why?” I tug open the drawstring and run my fingers through all the untapped potential. Each seed tells me what it can be, what it can grow into. They whisper what they can become and what they want to do. It’s an interesting collection, to say the least.
“Tell me how you create your dagger and manifest your ability.” His tone is patient as he asks me to explain.
“I draw power from the earth, and the seeds and gains of dirt become what I ask. My dagger is easy, because I can draw it from myself. But mostly, I have to manifest the creation from nothing.”
“I think it will be less taxing on you to not have to draw it out from yourself. Those little beauties will be good for battle. These—” he drops another bag into my hand “—will be for practice.”
I can hear the anguish from the seeds in this bag. They want to make beauty, not cruelty. I reason with them that even roses have thorns.
“What are you doing with seeds in the home of the Goddess of Spring?” I meet Essos’s gaze and hate a little bit that I did. He looks sad, gazing at the small bag in my hands.
