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"Right. Fair and square," Finn winks and slips into the kitchen.
When I noticed Atlas' gloves during one of our classes, I saw how powerful he looked and immediately wanted to be seen in that manner too. If I had the proper attire for hand-to-hand combat, perhaps my knuckles wouldn't bruise so easily, and I'd be seen as a serious threat. I wish I could pinpoint the desire for Atlas to see me as his equal – to see me as a force to be reckoned with – but what it ultimately boils down to is I refuse to be treated as a delicate flower that has no value other than looking pretty and being silent.
I nearly cackled when I saw the surprise on Atlas' face when I told him I wanted fighting gloves for pinning him. He probably expected me to ask for a tiara or three dozen roses or a dress with a train that stretched an entire city block. But I'm realizing I only loved those things because I was conditioned to. They never brought me true happiness. All I ever wanted was to be seen, to be loved, and to be treated with respect. I couldn't recognize what I was actually craving until I was plucked from my cushy life of luxury and thrust into a do-or-die situation.
The Tronovians have changed me. They've inspired me. They've made me feel seen and heard and I'll be damned if I go back to being the silly, spoiled princess I was before they kidnapped me. Before they saved me.
The swinging door flies open and Nyx trots out, sinking his teeth into a juicy green apple.
"You!" I point at him, stopping him dead in his tracks.
"Me," he says, wide-eyed.
"Teach me how to fight."
"I've already taught you basic self-defense moves and Atl -"
"No!" I interrupt him. "Everyone at that school looks at me like I'm fragile and I'm tired of it. Teach me how to fight like you. I don't want to defend myself; I want to bring men to their knees."
Slowly, Nyx stalks toward me, taking another bite of his afternoon snack and looking at the gift his brother sent me with a knowing smile. He smacks his lips together, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "Would this new-found urge to learn hand-to-hand combat have anything to do with Atlas?"
I fold my arms over my chest, returning his mischievous grin with a narrow-eyed glare. "And if it does?"
"Then, I'm all in, Kitarni. Let's hit the mats." He jerks his chin upward and I beeline up the stairs to the fifth floor, tying my hair back on the way. "Someone is eager," he teases when he makes it to the sparring room.
He sets his half-eaten apple to the side before dragging the black mats lining the wall and tossing them on the wooden floor.
"First things first," he beckons me to join him. "Stretching." He bends forward, wraps his arms around his legs, and rests his forehead against his shins.
"Stretch?" I crinkle my nose. "What does that have to do with fighting?"
"If you aren't limber or flexible, your range of motion will be useless and the chance of you injuring yourself is higher."
I stare at him blankly, unsure of how to proceed.
"Have you not stretched before?"
"I mean… yes…"
Nyx stands up, quirking a curious eyebrow. "So, that's a no."
"I used to stretch before swimming."
"I mean really stretching. Can you do the splits?"
"Nyx," I warn and frown at him, not sure if he's making some kind of sexual innuendo until he holds his hands up in surrender.
"I know I joke a lot, but I'm being serious this time. Can you do the splits?"
"Can you?" I shoot back with a little more attitude than necessary.
"No need to get testy, Kitarni." He tsks, flips his hair over his shoulder, and plops down. Stretching one leg in front of him and the other behind before he rotates his hips and splays his legs wide to the sides in a full split. "Come on." He pats the available space beside him. "Show me what you can do."
My cheeks heat. I know I won't be able to do a split like that. Not even close. I'll be lucky if I don't split my pants attempting it. My range of motion is limited. I've never been expected to be physically fit, so other than a light swim when I felt like it, I lived a sedentary life.
Not wanting to shy away from a challenge, I sit next to Nyx and stretch my legs apart as far as my body will physically allow. My legs are pointed in a V-shape – nowhere close to the degree Nyx is at.
I groan. "Well, this is embarrassing."
