Page 24 of A Cruel Kindness

At this point, everyone else was shamelessly staring, itching for a chance to see the Emperor’s prized princess fall on her ass. I couldn’t blame them. There was something enticing about seeing diamonds weather and tarnish.

“Oh, no, thank you,” Esme called, and I turned to find her at the back of the room, standing by the throwing knives. I’d missed her during my initial sweep of the space. I really needed to ask her how she managed that. Invisibility was a priceless skill, especially for my priorities.

“Esme, seriously,” said a voice, thick with exasperation. I turned to find Ford with a group of soldiers who looked far too young to be here. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his mouth—scar and all—was turned down into a frown.

“I don’t answer to you,” Esme snapped back, her voice hardly rising in volume and yet piercing the silence of the room. She technically did, though I wouldn’t point that out. Ford answered to her, too. The Bond was settling in quickly, and if there was one thing I knew for certain, it was that Soren was probably the only person on Vir whose opinion I felt compelled to consider.

Regardless, Esme set a knife back on the rack and walked over to me, her hands moving to her throat to straighten her necklaces. “Just promise not break any of my jewelry.”

“I won’t,” I said, a true smile threatening to replace my practiced one for the first time today. “Though you might wish I would. I’d have to pay you back from the Royal collection.”

Esme’s smile transformed her entire face. She looked to Soren and pointed at me. “I like her.”

“You said that yesterday,” Ford cut in. I would likely end up dead if I pointed it out, lest it challenge the notion that Ford and Esme had somehow escaped the effects of the Bond, but it seemed like he was listening to her even when he was separated by an entire room of people.

“Bears repeating,” Esme said, a challenging look glowing in her eyes. Ford scoffed, and turned back towards his new recruits, who looked like they were in for an even more intense run than they’d initially signed up for. After a moment of staring at Ford’s back, Esme rolled her shoulders and looked back to me. “Alright, princess. Let’s see what you got.”

I had half the mind to correct her for using the term.

As she walked up on the mat, I quickly noticed her gait and the length of her limbs—both critical for understanding any opponent. That old adage had been all but beat into me by the masters that had trained me.

Esme hopped into position quickly, a testament to the years of her service. She’d said she’d been Matched to Ford for eight years. She couldn’t be any older than twenty-five. Ford seemed a few years older, but that still meant they’d both been enlisted as teenagers.

The wave of empathy I felt was quickly pushed away by the slight cock of Esme’s head, a clear sign she was about to start swinging. Sure enough, her right arm hooked towards me in a quick snap, and I ducked under her hand just in time.

Though she was incredibly steady on her feet, there was just enough leverage from her swing for me to knock her off balance by pushing on the back of her knee with my foot.

Her knee dropped to the mat, but she recovered quickly and brought her elbow back into my own leg, breaking my stance. I let myself fall, using my knee to anchor me as I swung my other leg to hook around her waist and flip us both, ending the maneuver by locking her arm out in a strong hold.

Right as I was loosening my grip, Esme rolled over her shoulder in an agile move and took several steps back, her hands raised. “Nope,” she said, shaking her head. “She’s good. I know when to tap out.”

I opened my mouth to apologize, especially as a red mark bloomed on the arm that I’d locked out. Before I could, Ford barked, “Esme.”

With a dramatic eye-roll she clearly hoped he saw, she walked over to where he was supervising two young people rolling around on the mat like playful puppies. At first, Ford didn’t look at her while she approached. After a moment, though, I could have sworn his gaze slid to the mark on her arm.

“Soren,” Williams said, arms crossed over his chest and jerking his chin towards me. Well, I guess now they were listening to me about pairing me with Soren. Skill level was also a much better excuse to pair us than trying to explain that I would get far too agitated with someone else touching me and would likely accidentally hurt them.

Soren sauntered up to me, a cocky smile blooming wide on his face. “Give me all you got, princess.”

Ugh. I hoped I’d be rid of that nickname soon.

Without giving me even a moment to prepare, Soren lunged at me, immediately going for my left side. He had the advantage now, having watched me with Esme. Though it was a short spar, it was clearly long enough for him to realize that my left side was weaker.

He went for my hip, right to the core of my balance, to try to knock me to the floor. I countered by twisting and kicking up, but his arm shot up to block my leg before it could get anywhere close to striking him.

Something happened then, while I was focused on Soren and the sparring. The entire world melted away from us. My peripheral vision went blurry and hazy, tunneling in on him. Every detail about him suddenly got much clearer. The exact color of his eyes, where all the swirling blues darkened and lightened.

The small bead of sweat, forming over his handsome brow.

The way his lips curved and twisted in focus.

I was still fighting him, my body moving on pure instinct. Every time our limbs struck, a warm hum melted up my leg or my arm, pooling in my very center. Even strikes that were supposed to hurt felt as comforting as a soft caress.

I would never know if it was my distraction or Soren’s skill that landed me on my back, but the next thing I knew, Soren was hovering over me and taking up more of my world than he already had.

He had my wrists pinned in his large hands, secured to the ground and sending that hum buzzing towards my shoulders. He was braced, easing his weight, but he still had me thoroughly trapped beneath him.

Soren’s mouth curved into a sly grin and he said, “You would have gotten me if you were a bit more scrappy.”