Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
The next morning, on day three of training, everyone gathered on the covered back patio for breakfast.
Miss Alice and the rest of the staff had prepared every dish imaginable, setting them out in covered trays for us to serve ourselves.
If it weren’t for the threat of Kingston’s father, Max’s pending engagement, and the Final Trial hanging over our heads, it would’ve been like staying at a beautiful resort and waking up to continental breakfast.
I’d only done that once with my parents when they took me to the second Happiest Place on Earth for my tenth birthday.
The memory came to mind while I listened to two of the girls, Camille and Luna, share stories about the places their parents took them on other summer trips.
In the years they didn’t participate in The Quest, their lives sounded like a constant vacation. I tuned them out when I heard words like private jet and island resort.
I was just here for the food.
After stuffing myself, I went out to the lawn for my first session with Landon. We talked through my weird run-in with Morty while he tried to keep me focused.
He took my suggestion, again, for how we hone my endurance skills—duly noted, by his cock hardening in his pants—but, ever the steadfast Knight, he didn’t take the bait.
“Fine,” I agreed sullenly. “No making out until after our run. I hear you!”
He laughed, shaking his head as he stretched. “Now, I want to hear you tell me how it went yesterday.”
With only a slight pout, I accepted his offer. I told him about my first lessons: Strategy with Peter, Sublimation with Dax, and Elements with Ben before I paused. I pulled the small pocketknife out of the side pocket in my leggings.
He took the blade, a frown on his face as he stared at it.
“Should I give it to Kingston? Should I keep it?”
After considering it, he slipped it back into my pocket. “Hold onto it for now, but…maybe don’t let anyone know you have it. It’ll be good for protection if anything comes up.”
My eyebrows rose. “Even Kingston?”
He shifted in place, shuffling his feet as his brow creased.
On anyone else, it wouldn’t have been out of place, but it caught my attention after the way Landon had been holding himself together. When he reached up and scratched behind his ear, I grew concerned.
Something was up.
But before I jumped to conclusions, Landon picked up on my laser-focused gaze and dropped his hand. “Because of his father, I want to say yes, but I don’t want to tell you to hide anything from him, either.”
“Is everything okay? Has anything happened?”
Landon shook his head. “It was just a lot. All of them being here for the Camelot Society Quorum. Seeing my father…”
“You don’t really talk about him.”
He swallowed deeply, nodding. “We haven’t been close since my mother died. Since I—”
I tilted my head to assess his reaction.
He dropped his head, the crease in his brow deepening. “With boarding school at Camelot Academy and then coming here, I rarely have to see him. He makes himself scarce when I go home, and that—It’s better that way.”
“It is?”
Taking my hand, Landon stared into my eyes.
“You’ve noticed, by now, that our parents aren’t the best people.
My father is no exception. Being the left hand of Drake D’Arthur comes with responsibility.
” He sighed, rubbing his temple. “A lot of which I can’t share with you, but the left hand of the King is typically more brutal than the right. ”
I squeezed his hand. “Was he that way with you?”
“I don’t remember. What’s come back in pieces suggests he wasn’t the most loving father, but that’s not new.” He shrugged. “So, I want you to be protected. I’m not sure why Morty gave you the knife. I plan to look into that, but since you have it…”
“I’ll hold onto it.” I hesitated, but his honest answer made up my mind. “And for now, it’ll be my little secret. But when I see him, I will tell Kingston.”
With both of us satisfied by that, I ran through the events of both my Sparring sessions, Succession, Escape, and Sabotage. Finally, I filled him in on what happened with Max, needing perspective before my next session with the surly brute.
“At this rate, I won’t have a clue what Subterfuge training is supposed to be about since, after he stormed out of the room, he avoided me the rest of our session.”
“Subterfuge is using deceit to achieve a goal.”
I stretched my arm across my chest. “Well, he certainly lied about how he felt and ran off. So, I learned something after all.”
He kissed the top of my head before copying my stretch. “You’ll find a way to get through to him.”
“Thanks, Buns.” I worried my lip, glancing to where Max would be. “I just want to help him through whatever this is. The way I want to help all of you.”
“I know you do.”
Despite needing more reassurance about Max, I wanted to at least try not to be distracted during my time with Landon, especially since it was so limited. Releasing a deep breath, I put Max out of my mind until later, when I could do something.
Landon sensed the shift in my thoughts and refocused with me. “We need to work on your breathing.”
I waggled my eyebrows, and his lips quirked into a half-smile that made me want to jump him all over again.
“I already know you can do physical activity for an extended period of time.” He winked. “But your asthma and breathing will be your biggest challenge through the Final Trial.”
I was inclined to agree.
Between the Scavenger Hunt and Obstacle Course at the end of the Nobility Challenge, the latter concerned me most.
“There are twelve obstacles,” Landon explained. “Each meant to test you. With limited time allowed for completion, you won’t get much of a break between to catch your breath.”
“I’ll be able to use my inhaler, though, right?”
He nodded, bending his knee back and holding onto his ankle to stretch his quad. I got distracted by the way his muscles bulged, and he cleared his throat to refocus me.
“Hey, it’s not my fault you’re hot.”
“You’re deflecting because you’re nervous.” He gave me a pointed look. “But you can do this, and I want you as prepared as possible, so keep it in your pants, Lady.”
“All I’m saying is there’s one activity that can increase my breathing endurance.” I teased to avoid admitting that he was right. “I suggest it strictly for efficiency reasons.”
He didn’t buy it. “We can practice that later. First, we run.”
“You’re no fun,” I grumbled.
He swatted my ass.
I yelped, the sharp sting only amplifying my libido, especially when he started jogging in place ahead of me and the outline of his cock teased me through his track pants.
“You want it?” He taunted, biting his lower lip when I dragged my eyes up, and flicking his gaze back down. “Come and get me, then.”
He took off, definitely not at his regular speed until I pulled myself together and tore after him.
As soon as I started to catch up, he went faster, slowing down only when he pulled too far ahead before letting me get close again. Then, right when I thought I might catch him, he shot off like a rocket.
I growled, hauling ass to keep pace, and torn between frustrated and eased by his playfulness. I didn’t catch him. And eventually, my breathing betrayed me.
My crossbody bounced against my back as I ran. A reminder, as I pushed myself harder, that I needed what it contained. But I didn’t want to stop and use it, so I kept going.
I finally grabbed onto Landon’s back with a wheeze, and I coughed as I bent forward, struggling to drag air into my lungs.
Landon reached for my bag and pulled the rescue inhaler out. He popped the cap off and put it to my lips, easing me upright. “Breathe, Quinn.”
Inhaling as he pressed down, I drew in as big a breath as I could. Gratitude for Dr. Barrow and the added relief filtered through my chest as the medication did. My lungs expanded, and I coughed more as they cleared.
When I was ready, I took the inhaler from Landon and breathed in a second puff.
Red and blotchy from the exertion, I didn’t even attempt to seduce him for a make-out session. And I learned a valuable lesson about endurance and reaching my end goal. One he drove home repeatedly as we walked back to Pendragon.
“You can’t wait until it’s that hard to breathe to use your inhaler, even if you feel like you’re losing your lead or traction you’ve gained on one of the other girls.
The Final Trial isn’t a race to finish with the best time.
You just have to reach the end. And making it there won’t matter if, when you do, you’re too out of breath to get your inhaler and end up passing out. ”
He pushed my hair out of my face, sweeping strands that had dislodged from my ponytail back up and re-tying my elastic. Concern in his eyes assured me he didn’t lecture to condescend, only because he cared.
Regardless, frustration seeped through as my adrenaline faded. “I hate that I can’t do this without it.”
Stroking my cheek with his thumb, the corner of his mouth tipped up. “It’s okay to need things. To not be able to do everything on your own. And this? You’re using it the way you’re supposed to now. It’s a part of you. Embracing it will keep you safe. Pushing back…isn’t always the best approach.”
“So, what? I just need to accept it?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes, that takes more strength than defiance. And I’m not saying you do nothing. There are other ways to reach your goal. Ways that might take longer, but getting there in the end, that’s what matters, right?”
“I feel like you’re talking to me about Max without talking to me about Max.” I harrumphed and sat down on the ground like an adult, not quite ready to stop fighting and leave it in the hands of fate. “But no one has fought for him. Or protected him. And he deserves that.”
“I’m not saying he doesn’t. I’m just…” He sighed and sat down beside me. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Max isn’t going to hurt me.”
“I know that. I’m not talking about Max.”
“Then, what are you talking about?”
He took my hand, pulling it into his lap as he laced our fingers. “If Max got into bed with the Valencourts, if they have something on him that’s making him do and say what he is right now? They won’t sit by while you try to break that hold.”
I stood up. “That’s even more reason to fight for him!”
“I know,” he said gently, staring up at me. “Sometimes Kingston’s right, and we have to have faith. So, I’m just asking you to be careful—strategic—in how you approach it. That’s all.”
“Well, good thing I have training with Peter next,” I snapped. “Strategy, here I come.”
My reaction wasn’t fair, but Landon was thinking about me and prioritizing my safety, not Max’s. Max was the one in danger if the Valencourts were as terrible as I suspected. That meant Landon wasn’t being objective, either.
But, as much as I hated to admit it, he wasn’t saying anything untrue.
I sat back down beside him. “I’m sorry. I know you’re worried about me, but I’m safe, Landon. Max is the one who isn’t right now, and it’s hard to leave him like that.”
“I know it is, but…” He wrapped his arm around me and pulled me in close. “No matter what Max and I may disagree on, one thing I can tell you is that he wouldn’t want anything to happen to you for his sake. Not if he cares about you the way I do. The way I think he does.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but Landon shook his head.
“I say that because if it were me in danger and you wanted to risk your life for me? I’d kill him for letting you.”
Frowning, I glanced away. “Yeah, well, I’d still do it.”
He shot to his feet. “And if I survived and you didn’t? You think I could live with that?”
When I frowned, he leaned down and cupped my face.
“Max would never forgive himself if you got hurt trying to save him. I promise you that. So, instead of tying you to the bed just to keep you safe, I—” Forcing himself to breathe, he pressed a kiss to my forehead before pulling back to stare into my eyes.
“Be careful and be strategic. That’s all I’m asking. ”
“Okay, I will.” I wrapped my arms around his wrists, trying to ease his concerns once I grasped the weight of them.
When his breathing and mine leveled out, I stood up, and he hugged me. His tight grip gave away how worried he was, so I hugged him back as hard as I could.
“I promise, Buns. You won’t lose me.”
Tension drained slowly, dissipating as we held each other.
Once we were both calm, I wriggled my head out from beneath his chin and peeked up at him, trying to break the intensity of the discussion and our fears with my earlier teasing.
He gave me a knowing look, his lips twitching. “Yes, I’ll still tie you to the bed later.”
I grinned. “Now you’re talking.”
With a final kiss and swat on my butt, he sent me off to my next session.
I went reluctantly, taking what he’d said to heart, knowing he’d shared it from his. Hoping it never came to that, who was saved and who was lost, for any of us.