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He must have heard her wrong. “Teach you?”
“Yes. You constantly say you will not help me. I don’t want to be a burden to you. If you teach me, I can be an asset. You said I have the physique of a warrior.”
She was not a burden. He was. She was perfect the way she was, with her strange diet and her desire to help and her kind heart.
If she became a shield-maiden, too—
She would be able to protect herself, which meant she would stand a higher chance of surviving the threats of this world. And maybe—a small part of him whispered somewhere deep inside—he could actually have a future with someone like her.
No, not someone like her. With her.
His heart ached so much he choked.
Fool.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she said. “I want to defend myself.”
Andor lowered his eyes to the hare thighs. He had already broken his word to himself by going after her. Even though he had told himself he did not, the truth was that he felt responsible for her life. Even if he taught her to fight, he doubted the feeling of responsibility would be lighter. He doubted he could avoid looking at her and following her every movement to make sure she was safe.
He met her gaze. “I do not think it is a good idea.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I am going to protect you. I have already started.”
“Yes, Andor. But I also want to protect you.”
He laughed. “You? Protect me?”
“Yes. I’ve already saved your butt, remember?”
“Wielding a sword and dragging an unconscious man into a cave are two different things.”
“Yes. But still. I think I can do it. I—” She cut herself off and lowered her gaze, pursing her lips.
“What? What are you not telling me?”
She met his gaze, eyes burning. Andor’s stomach turned with the realization that she would not back down.
“I like it,” she finished.
“You like holding a sword?”
She stood and unsheathed the weapon. It was made of simple metal, but it fit her size. Cathy looked at it in her hand. Her eyes sparkled, and in them a new strength appeared. She swung the sword a few times—awkwardly and uselessly because she held it wrong, but there was a gracefulness and strength about her movements that made him think that she could be a good warrior.
“Yes,” she said, then lowered the tip of the sword to a hare thigh and picked it from the stick, making the stick sway so that Andor barely managed to save the second thigh from falling into the fire. Andor watched open mouthed as she picked the meat from the sword with another hand, bit into it and chewed with a satisfied smile. “I really do.”
Then her expression changed to one of surprise and disgust, and she spat the meat into the fire.
“Oh my god, I’m going to be sick,” she said. Coals hissed where the pieces of food landed.
Andor shook his head. “Woman, first of all, do not use your sword for eating food. Respect the weapon. Second of all, do not waste a perfectly good breakfast.”
He stood and removed the leg from the fire, then bit into it. “It tastes fine.”
“Whatever. Will you teach me or not?”
He chewed, studying her. Then he swallowed and sighed. “I cannot say no to a warrior. You have everything—the height, the strength, the spirit. I will teach you. But you must do as you are told.”
