Chapter 8 #2
“Your Highness,” Nik said, bowing.
Aryel looked between him and Corinne. “Hello, Nik,” he said. “I was just on my way to see your father.”
“Ah, archery today?”
“Actually, I’ll be learning some hand-to-hand combat basics from Sunshine over here,” he said, pointing a thumb at Corinne. “I’m headed to tell him he’s got the afternoon off.”
Confusion crossed Nik’s face, which he failed spectacularly at hiding. “I see. Well, I hope it goes well.”
“I have no doubt,” Aryel said, shockingly chipper.
Perhaps Councilor Toro had put him in a good mood.
Corinne bid Nik farewell, a bit of guilt nagging at the back of her mind as she and Aryel set off. You don’t want to become too close with those who aren’t virtuous. She’d lowered her guard around him again.
They arrived at the training grounds in no time, the walk not far from the library.
Aryel had Corinne wait for him by the ring with grass terrain while he approached the archery enclosure to speak with Captain Ekhana.
Another connection clicked in Corinne’s mind; Nik was Captain Ekhana’s son.
A bit of relief settled within her; surely the son of the man responsible for the royal family’s safety wouldn’t be a Nightrender sympathizer.
Unless the Captain himself was, and that made little sense.
Ekhana would have had numerous chances to kill the prince himself before Corinne ever arrived.
“All right,” Aryel said, clapping his hands together as he returned to Corinne. “Lead the way.”
Corinne didn’t entirely trust this enthusiasm of his, but she wasn’t going to question it. She removed her sword, and he flinched back.
“I thought you said we were doing hand-to-hand,” he said.
Corinne couldn’t suppress a small laugh. “We are, I’m just taking this off.”
Aryel’s body relaxed, and Corinne removed her sword belt, handing it to the attendant nearby.
She felt almost naked without it, but she couldn’t very well risk smacking the prince with a rogue sword at her hip.
She led him to the center of the grassy ring, only realizing when she turned that he’d removed his tunic, leaving just a thin white undershirt covering his upper body.
Those tattoos of his stood out beneath the fabric in the afternoon sun.
He’d rolled up his sleeves, too, stopping just below his elbows, and Corinne’s mouth went dry.
He certainly had the arms of a trained archer.
She kicked herself mentally. Focus, Corinne.
“All right,” she said, clearing her throat. “First, I can teach you the most effective dodging techniques for when you see your attacker coming, and then we can go through how to break a hold.”
Aryel nodded, his face serious, and Corinne walked him through how she was going to attack him and how to avoid her.
“Ready?” she asked.
“Ready.”
She lunged for him, and he executed the move perfectly. Corinne turned to him, impressed.
“That was…well done,” she said. “All right, next one.”
Again, on the first try, Aryel dodged Corinne with ease, as if his steps were practiced. The third time he did it, he was grinning from ear to ear. His cheerful willingness to go along with her suddenly made perfect sense as he dissolved into a fit of laughter.
He already knew the basics of hand-to-hand combat, and he wanted to make a fool of Corinne. Ire ignited in the pit of her stomach, blazing up her spine. She was doing this to help him, and he was making fun of her.
Fine. If he was so confident, she would make this lesson more of a challenge.
Moving twice as fast as before, Corinne dove at him, cutting off his laughter as she tackled him to the ground.
In a blink, he was pinned beneath her, his left arm shoved into his side by her knee and the right forced to the grass with her fingers around his wrist. He blinked at her, their faces inches away.
“Well,” he said slowly, grunting as he tried and failed to break her hold. “I must say I’ve never been in this position with this much clothing on.”
Corinne leapt off him with a growl, certain her face was violently red yet again. She stalked away several feet. “How is it possible for you to be so insufferable?”
She regretted the words immediately, cursing her own mouth for her lack of self-control, but Aryel sat up and burst out laughing.
“You know, you’re far better company when you’re less polished and stoic, Sunshine,” he said, getting to his feet and brushing the grass off his trousers.
Corinne crossed her arms and glared at him. “Can you tell me what you don’t know so this lesson is actually helpful?” she asked.
Aryel studied her for a moment. “Well, clearly I don’t know how to get out of that hold you just put me in, so why don’t we start there?”
Corinne narrowed her eyes. “No more jokes about nudity.”
The prince pressed his mouth into a thin line, fighting a smile as he lifted both hands in surrender. “On my honor.”
Prince Aryel caught his breath on the grassy terrain nearly an hour later, one hand resting on his sternum.
“I think that’s enough for today,” he said.
Corinne couldn’t help her smug satisfaction as he struggled to sit up. He planted his palms on the ground to lift himself, but then hissed in pain. A splintered piece of wood, hidden in the grass, had cut into his palm.
“My sincerest apologies, Your Highness,” the attendant said, rushing over with Corinne’s sword and belt still in hand. “The terrain is supposed to be thoroughly inspected, I—”
“It’s fine,” Aryel said, waving the boy off even as he winced. “I’ll just go to the infirmary.”
“I can heal it,” Corinne said.
Both Aryel and the attendant stared at her.
It wasn’t uncommon for Lightguards to heal their own minor injuries during training, and Corinne had healed kitchen burns for monastery Attendants and even once helped when a younger trainee broke their leg.
But these two had likely never seen healing magic.
“I-if you don’t mind,” she added quickly.
Aryel looked to the boy holding Corinne’s sword and then back to her. “It’s not going to hurt, is it?”
Corinne almost snorted. “No.”
Aryel held her gaze for another moment before nodding and holding out his hand. Taking it softly, Corinne knelt beside him on the grass.
The part of her magic that healed was gentler than the part used for combat, and she cleared her mind to call upon it, coaxing it into her fingers.
Her hands and forearms lit up with her markings, and Aryel’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.
She pushed the light into his hand, and in moments, the cut sealed itself, his palm good as new.
“Goddess,” he breathed as Corinne’s healing light faded.
She’d been so focused on his healing that she only just noticed the smooth skin of his hand in hers, the veins that ran from his wrist up his toned forearm. Her pulse jumped, and she released him quickly.
“There,” she said. “Hopefully there will be no unexpected wood next time.”
Aryel swallowed hard, meeting Corinne’s eyes with a pained look. It took her a moment to realize he was holding back laughter again.
“Hopefully not,” he said, his voice trembling with the effort.
Did she have something on her face? She hadn’t said anything particularly funny…and if she had, she didn’t want to know.
She stood, offering her hand to help him up. “Come on,” she said. “You’ve got a formal dinner tonight, and I’m sure you’ll want to clean up first.”
Aryel grimaced as he took her hand and got to his feet. “Thanks for the reminder.”
His tone suggested he was anything but thankful, and Corinne resisted the urge to sigh. She couldn’t win with him.
But, she reminded herself as they trekked back to his rooms, she could keep him alive. That was all that mattered.