Page 26 of Obsidian Throne
After washing up, I chose the black dress Evander had commissioned for me from my closet, before moving to the vanity to fix my hair and cosmetics.
I had considered going with one of my more traditional Socairan gowns, but they were impossible to move in.Even more impossible to spar in.
And the reality was, I didn’t want to dress like that for the rest of my life, so I aimed to start a new trend. Between Mila and me, I hoped that wouldn’t be too difficult.
Evander gave me a look of approval when I emerged, having finished pinning the stray curls back away from my face.
Aheatedlook of approval, one that delayed our departure by several minutes and forced me to re-pin the wayward locks.
Finally, though, we were on our way.
“Are we going to a private sparring ring?” I asked him, an extra bounce to my step as we made our way across the courtyard.
There was no real chance I could beat Evander, but facing off against him was still exciting. Sparring, period, was something I enjoyed, and it had been a couple of weeks since Callum and I practiced on the road.
“No,” he said simply.
“Surely the men will resent it if you make them leave,” I said.
Resentme, I meant.
When Evander had brought me here before, he had ordered the men out as soon as we got there. I couldn’t imagine that going over well every single morning.
“They probably would,” he agreed a little too amicably, his usual smirk tugging at the side of his lips.
Before I could push him further, we were at the training grounds.
The sound of unsharpened blades clanging and the grunts of men training rang out as soon as Evander opened the massive doors to the sparring ring.
Just like the last time, the noise quieted when the men caught sight of me.
I waited for Evander to dismiss them the way he had before, but instead, he was silent as we walked toward the center of the room.
Yuriy met us there, and my husband sized up the two of us, nodding his head in approval.
“Perfect. You can start with Yuriy.”
Yuriy subtly glanced around at the room full of men, his face a mixture of confusion and apprehension. The other soldiers looked nonplussed, their eyes darting between Evander, Yuriy, and me.
“I’m not sparring with you?” I asked, quiet enough that only Evander could hear me.
“I’m sure there will be time enough for that later, Lemmikki,” he responded with a wink, implying that he had a different kind of sparring in mind.
Yuriy awkwardly agreed, and I took a moment to stretch. It wasn’t lost on me that Evander had put me on display in the middle of the room, clearly making a point.
While I warmed up, he moved around the room, giving feedback on the form of the other fighting men. A few minutes later, he returned with one of the sparring swords, handing it to me before telling us to begin.
We took up our fighting stances, though Yuriy was still hesitant. Many of the men around us stopped to watch, but I refused to let that bother me.
Isn’t this what I wanted? To be able to openly spar in Socair the way I did in Lochlann?
Instead of standing and waiting for Yuriy to strike, I went on the offensive, throwing myself into an attack. He deftly maneuvered backward, blocking my sword, but made no move to attack.
“Stop holding back, Yuriy.” Evander’s voice was low, but it still reached us over the sounds of our blades clashing.
Yuriy gave the smallest shake of his head, then made a single offensive strike, which I parried efficiently. He frowned, looking at Evander once more. Whatever Yuriy saw on his cousin’s face must have been enough, because the next thing I knew, we were sparring in truth.
Evander circled us as he critiqued us both.