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I recalled what she had done to me that first day when I had woken up and a burning rage went through me.
On second thought, perhaps this was perfect timing. Draven wasn’t around to hold either of us back today and Odessa seemed to have given up trying.
I marched over to where she stood waiting for me and closed the wooden gate behind.
“Let's do this,” I said shortly.
The air seemed to crackle with anticipation as we gripped our swords tightly.
Then, blades clashed. Sparks flew.
Lyrastra fought well. She was swift and sure, spinning her blade with aggression and arrogance, immediately seeking to undermine my confidence.
She also enjoyed penning me in. I found myself trapped against first one side of the ring, then the other, each time getting away only by dropping to a tumble and rolling past her.
Lyrastra sneered as I stood up the second time, brushing dust off. “Don't mind getting down in the dirt, do you, Lady Morgan? I'm sure our prince appreciates that about you. Men often do.”
I choked back the first retort that had come to mind and reminded myself that I couldn't deny being Draven's lover–no matter how much I might long to.
There were other things I could have said now that I knew more about Lyrastra and her history. But they were too cruel. Though I doubted she would have held herself back for my sake were our positions reversed.
I set myself against her firmly instead, attacking with everything I had.
It wasn't enough. I could feel that already. I was panting. Sweat was dripping from my brow.
Meanwhile Lyrastra looked fresh as a flower.
She was faster than me. Perhaps even stronger than me, at least for now.
I wasn't sure I could beat her, I acknowledged to myself. But that didn't mean I was going to just give up.
I’d realized I was taller than her by a fair measure and, when I was at my best, I suspected I was heavier and more muscular, too. She was slender and lithe, but that could work against her.
I threw myself up against her, smashing my shield into hers and hoping I was right about being a little heavier.
She looked a little startled as she hit the fence, but quickly regained her equilibrium. “Oooh, feisty, Paramour.”
“Shut up,” I grunted. “Shut your mouth and fight me. Stop holding back.”
Her eyes widened then narrowed as if she took in the implication. I felt a little smug. So she wasn't holding back. This was all she had.
In that case, maybe I actually stood a chance.
I caught a crafty smile on Lyrastra's lips just as I parried and thrust my sword, and then with a swift motion her leg hooked through mine, throwing me off balance.
I smashed to the mat with a cry of outrage, my elbow hitting the ground hard. I cringed. There would be a nasty bruise there later. Hopefully Draven's gown came with a wrap or a shawl.
It was a blatant act of cheating, but if Lyrastra wanted to play dirty I wasn't going to tattle or complain and have her think me weak.
But it wasn't entirely up to me.
“Hey!” I turned my head at the angry yell to see Odessa marching over. “I told you to keep it clean, Lyrastra. Do that again and you won't be welcome here for a week.”
Lyrastra's lips thinned but she said nothing, simply nodded.
I jumped up, readying myself to resume. Lyrastra gave me a sly smile that told me she was convinced she could get away with much more than a little leg twist.
I was hardly back on my feet when she lunged at me. Raising my shield as fast as I could, I managed to deflect the blow. With a resounding thud, the arm I had just landed on took the brunt of the impact. I forced myself not to wince.
