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“To be perfectly clear, I did not kidnap you,” he said, suddenly defensive. “I had no idea that my brother was even planning it until he showed up with you, unconscious. Had Iknown that he was planning such a terrible thing, I wouldn’t have allowed it.”
The cold tone in his voice convinced me that he was telling the truth.
“You could let me go home, you know,” I said.
He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. His eyes met mine, a deep and exhausted pain in them.
“I wish it were that simple,” he replied.
Thunder ripped across the sky. I jumped, holding the sword to my chest.
Henrik looked up as if he could see it through the ceiling. “The storm is coming in. Come on. I need to teach you basic defense before it arrives.”
“Defense?” my head was swirling with too much information now. “Why would I need to learn that? Why are you offering in the first place?”
“Because I don’t want anyone spilling your blood before I do.”
He said it so flatly, he must have been telling the truth. Did he have to be so casual about cutting me open? It was eerie.
“So let’s begin the first lesson,” he said. “How to hold a sword. Pay close attention. I’m not trying to cut you open.”
He gave a quick ironic smile.
“Yet,” he added.
CHAPTER 8—BEFORE THE STORM
Holding a sword was harder than I remembered.
Father always kept a sharp rapier on his wall as a toast to his glory days in the navy. Henrik’s sword was incredibly similar, which gave me some comfort. It was almost as if I was a five-year-old girl again, Father telling me how to parry and strike, a laugh on his face, proud of his only daughter being as tough as the men of his ship.
Only I wasn’t on his ship.
And I wasn’t as tough as I thought I was.
And Henrik was anything but proud of me.
“I suppose I shouldn’t have expected you to be naturally talented in this field,” he said, seemingly half to himself. “You’ve probably never lifted your arm longer than it takes to wave for a maid.”
I gritted my teeth. “You certainly have a lot of opinions.”
“Am I wrong?”
My eyes dropped to the ground as I tried to catch my breath.
“All you taught me was how to hold it and wave it around in the air,” I threw back, changing the subject. “You taught me nothing useful at all.”
“Holding it in the air and waving it around is the basic foundation of sword fighting, you know.”
He smirked. I frowned.
“Forget it,” I finally replied. “If you’re just going to insult me, I don’t need your instruction.”
I tossed the sword at his feet and crossed my sore arms. He slipped a foot under the sword, bouncing it up in the air and catching it. He leaned it up against the wall and walked back toward me.
“You’ll take my instruction,” he commanded, “because I might not be able to save you when things go south.”
“Then make sure nothing goes south,” I replied, shrugging.
