Page 46 of Onyx Cage: Volume II

They weren’t alone. There was a smattering of Elk soldiers, as well as my own, her sister, and all of her cousins.

And Korhonan, of course, who was in the middle of a spar with Davin.

“Care to go at it again, Lemmikki?” I pitched my voice to carry, relishing just a bit in the way Korhonan went rigid.

I relished more than a bit in the ensuing thunk of a wooden sword against his side.

As it turned out, I didn’t have to wait for the ring to watch Rowan’s skin flush with crimson, her eyes sparking with challenge. Suddenly, I wished we were in Bear where I could order everyone else out of the training ground.

Maybe if she worked out some of her own anger, I could get some actual honesty out of her, instead of the half-truths she’d been spinning in the same breath she accused me of doing that very thing.

“I meant sparring, obviously,” I told her in a placating tone that made her glare turn feral.

She parted her lips to give what I was sure was an affirmative response when another, deeper voice spoke up instead.

“I’ll spar with you.” Laird Gallagher’s tone was milder than—well, anyone else in his family that I had observed, except for perhaps Princess Isla.

It was nonetheless an intentional interruption, coupled with a subtle glance in her direction, like maybe he was also concerned about how much of herself she would show if she had a sword in her hand right now—even a wooden one.

“Of course,” I agreed smoothly, hiding the surge of disappointment that went through me.

At least she wasn’t sparring with Korhonan, either. On second thought, maybe it would have amused me to watch him hold back and to see how much that infuriated her. Did she realize that would be her life at Elk? Underestimated and on display.

I slipped off my jacket and hung it neatly on one of the hooks on the wall of the ring, carefully choosing the sparring sword that most closely resembled my favorite saber.

This space was larger than the one I had used with Yuriy, though still not quite the size of our training ring at Bear. There were three rings surrounding a small courtyard with seating, where Rowan sat with Avani while Gwyn sparred with a soldier from Elk. Though it wasn’t precisely disorganized, there was a sort of casualness to the area that would not have been permitted in any of Socair, an intentional disarray baked into the very essence of the cobblestone walls.

Perhaps that was all of Lochlann, though it was hard to imagine Princess Jocelyn allowing disarray of any sort into any part of her life.

Gallagher was well-trained. That much was clear from the opening blow, which was both quick and targeted. He was a calm fighter. Where Gwyn was constant motion from the corner of my eye, her twin didn’t put energy into any extra movement.

Each parry and strike was controlled and intentional, his features even and focused. Unlike Rowan, his features didn’t reveal a trace of his next move and his footwork was flawless.

He was a solid swordsman, but not enough to push me into any real competition. I disarmed him in a matter of minutes, just in time to see Korhonan best Davin.

Gwyn sat along the wall, assessing me with only slightly more interest than she showed the large apple she was eating.

“My turn?” she asked, a single eyebrow raised in challenge.

“Absolutely,” I agreed, not having to feign my easy acceptance this time.

I was eager to see her fighting style in action. Even without the rumors, I would have known she was a skilled fighter. It was in everything she did. She had confidence, and I was eager to see if she had earned it.

Rowan had been the first woman I sparred with, and that had been mostly to test her skill. And because I had been pulled in by the inexplicable urge to understand her, even then.

This was different. This time, I was only curious about her as a fellow soldier.

Why did the other men give her such a wide berth and talk about her like she was the creature stalking their nightmares? She couldn’t very well rely on being underestimated in a kingdom where her reputation preceded her.

I observed her as she sat the apple core on the bench, as if that was just another step in her battle prep, before swapping out her broadsword for one that was lighter and easier to maneuver. That made sense. Her build was slighter than the average man’s, and her reach wasn’t as long, so she would have had to compensate with speed.

She sized me up as openly as I did her, standing across from me and nodding for us to begin.

Sure enough, she started out with a blinding sequence of attacks. Where Gallagher had been disciplined, Gwyn was an enthusiastic fighter, like the energy was bursting forth from within.

I dodged her attack, countering with one of my own. She ducked artfully under my sword, twirling away and back for an attack on my side that I blocked. We continued in that manner, neither landing a single blow, though she switched sword hands more than once.

She slowed down from her blurring speed, and I wondered if, in spite of her renowned skill, she had tired herself out early. Her skin was darker than Rowan’s, not as prone to turning red, but there was no hint of exertion on her cheeks. Neither was her breath coming out in pants.