Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Thoroughly confused by Morty’s sudden arrival and equally abrupt departure, I kept my eyes on his back as he disappeared into the house.
Ben grumbled about the Dreads, lumping Max in with his brother as he ranted about their privilege, as misinformed about their family legacy as I’d been when The Quest began.
The longer he complained, the more my fist tightened on the small blade. And the more I wanted to act on my threat.
But thanks to my Sublimation lessons, channeling my rage over Max into Ben Devereaux made sense, and I also possessed a modicum of self-awareness. So, begrudgingly, I accepted that shanking a Knight would be frowned upon for a Lady and reined in my need for blood.
Even if the guy deserved it for his douchebag behavior.
Instead, I called it a day and got the hell out of there.
Washing off the ick from Ben’s training session took about three scrub downs, but after cleaning myself up and tucking the blade under my pillow, I went to my session before lunch.
As luck, and the detailed training schedule I’d triple-checked that morning, would have it, my combined sessions before and after lunch were with Elaine and Vivian.
I failed to muster up enthusiasm for our time together, since I’d been hoping for a chance to get to know the other girls a little better. Now that we’d bridged the divide in the Courage Challenge, I wanted to dig into their feelings about the way things worked here.
Sniff out their allegiance to the Good Old Boys’ club.
Fuel the rebellion.
Normal girl stuff.
On top of derailing those plans, I also had to spend two hours of my day with the two people here I didn’t want to be around at all. But alas, I accepted my fate, and instead of scratching their eyes out during sparring, I went in with the goal of getting along.
I considered that Fighting the Power since petty-rivals-turned-allied-Maidens had to be on the Camelot Society’s list of Don’ts for a prosperous and thriving patriarchy.
Unfortunately, Elaine had other plans.
She was hellbent on being intolerable the minute I walked into the sparring gym.
“What’s the matter, Quinn?” she sneered, her blonde curls bouncing around her face as she waited for me across the ring.
Who sparred with their hair down?
Honestly.
“I wonder how quickly Kingston will want to start a family.” She rubbed her belly, as if already carrying his imaginary child and still betrothed, even though they’d voted against the statute. “I’m sure his father can’t wait to be a grandfather.”
I muttered under my breath, “More like secure the next heir he can torment.”
“What’d you say?”
Biting my tongue, I growled as I shuffled my feet and tried to find the best place to whack her.
Josh, the Knight leading my first Sparring session, had welcomed me when I arrived and told me where to put my stuff.
Then he said Elaine and I would go at it until he called for us to stop. A tempting offer I planned to take advantage of, once I found an opportunity to land my first punch.
Especially with the way Elaine kept running her mouth.
She smirked, her voice obnoxiously bright. “I asked what you said.”
“Oh, nothing, Elaine. Just congratulating you on living up to your full potential so early in life.”
Her sickening giggle filled me with regret. “I want as many babies as possible, of course. But these things take time, so we’ll probably have to practice. A lot. Hey! Ow!”
I clocked her right on the temple. With a quick step back, I pulled in my arm and raised it to shield my face, just the way Josh had instructed.
He crowed from the sidelines. “Nice one, Quinn! Regroup.”
“Elaine,” Brad, the Knight on her side, called from across the ring. “Stop talking babies, and get your head in the game.”
She smirked again. “My head is in the game, Brad. That’s why I’m going to be Mrs. D’Arthur, while Quinn goes back to her poor, sad li—”
Red flooded my vision as that name left her mouth.
I punched her right in the jaw.
Given my not-so-socially-acceptable lifestyle choices, which prevented me from marrying all three of my broody assholes, I had no intention of being Mrs. D’Arthur officially. Not unless a three-way tie for my hand became an option. One day. Far, far in the future.
Still, the idea of Elaine bearing that name even in her wildest dreams filled me with rage.
“Ease up, Everly,” Josh called from the ropes, smirking at Brad. “You’ve clearly bested her. Give her a chance to get up.”
He ordered me back over to him and stopped me from climbing on top of the bitch. She whined about my being a cheater, and Josh and I both ignored her.
“Thanks,” I huffed as I sat on the stool he’d set out for me.
He shot water into my mouth from my water bottle while I seethed and practiced my glaring. Across the ring, Elaine chattered away happily as if I hadn’t just knocked her sideways.
“God, does she ever stop talking?”
Josh, who stood a foot over me with dark brown eyes and flawless tan skin, flashed me a friendly smile. “No.”
“Ugh.” I groaned and grabbed the towel he extended to me. “And I have to deal with her shit through the end of this?”
“Yes, but you get a day off before Bonding Day!” He thrust a fist in the air, as if that was news to celebrate. Noting my lack of joy over it, he laughed. “Don’t let her get in your head. You can do this.”
I ground out the words through clenched teeth. “She’s not in my head.”
He arched a well-groomed brow at me. “Oh, yes, not at all. That last punch contained no emotion whatsoever.”
“What are you implying, Joshua?” I waved a hand at him. “I assume your full name is Joshua.”
“Nope. Just Josh.”
“Alright. Just Josh, what are you trying to say?”
He gripped the legs of my stool and turned it to face him. “Everyone knows she attacked you with Vivian. And, forgive me for being honest, we all know you and Landon are…” He smiled innocently before he winked. “Close.”
I narrowed my eyes on his face. “Define: close.”
“Friendly in the biblical sense? Familiar in the bedroom? You tell me.” He shrugged. “No judgment. We all know the goal of the first thirty days.”
“Do we, though?” I growled before regaining my focus. “Fine. We’re close. What of it?”
Just Josh laughed. “Elaine has been obsessed with Landon since middle school. If she were my type, I’d consider her the one that got away after reading the beautiful love letter she wrote me in sixth grade.
Instead, I got a front row seat at every high school function and college party where she tried to get Landon’s attention. ”
“You sound heartbroken,” I deadpanned.
“Totally crushed.” He flashed me a toothy grin. “No, thankfully, it became clear around the same time that she was definitely not my type.”
When he smirked, my eyebrows rose, and I scrutinized his face. “So, you prefer…brunettes?”
He laughed. “Yeah, sure. Go with that.” Waving off the subject, he nodded at Elaine.
“Everyone knows she’s been gunning for you and your close friend, Landon, ever since he rejected her fully.
White Knight aside, her family’s attempt at a betrothal coup meant she also went after your other pal, Kingston, in some weird, I’ll-never-understand-females type of revenge plot. ”
Thrown by our total lack of subtlety, I shot him a glare. “What’s your point, Just Josh?”
“My point is you have every right to want to kick her ass, and everyone knows it. Including her.” He leaned close and directed my gaze to my opponent. “She’s trying to bait you and figure out how to hurt you as much as possible. Stop. Letting. Her.”
I frowned, eyeing him suspiciously. “And this advice, it just comes with the training?”
“We’re not putting you in a ring with each other before the end of this. So, yeah. The point of our training is so you get to know your opponents. Learn their weaknesses and strengths. How to read them quickly. So you can protect what’s yours.”
“You realize no one actually tells us the point of anything we do here, right?”
Josh ignored my comment, staring pointedly instead.
Eventually, I nodded, taking his advice but struggling to believe any Knight here would be on my side so easily.
Or actively trying to help me succeed.
It was his job to train us all fairly, but I expected the short end of the stick. An order handed down by their parents.
Or whatever rich, elitist fucks did to make sure the poor girl didn’t walk away with the prize.
As if reading my thoughts, Josh laughed. “Your face? It’s an open book. Mostly filled with skepticism, but also everything you’re feeling. Right now, and as she makes those digs, you’re handing her what she needs to pull your focus. On a silver platter.”
“Got it.” I grumbled under my breath, hating to admit that he was right. I rolled my neck muscles and shook out my arms. “Control my face.”
“Contain your emotions. They’ll only cloud your judgment, and if she’s doing that on purpose, it means she’s not as distracted as you think. As soon as you’re hellbent on rage, she’ll knock you on your ass.”
I stared at my opponent, who was flirting with her trainer Brad as if she’d forgotten about her fake future husband and all his hypothetical babies. Until she glanced my way and rubbed her lower belly.
Just that fleeting reminder pulled a growl from my throat.
Josh chuckled. “You going to let her get away with that?”
I pushed to my feet. “Over my dead body.”
“That’s the slightly overzealous spirit!” With a final clap on my shoulder, Josh directed me out of the ring. “Now, thankfully, that’s all the time we have. You can put your newfound skills and all that feminine rage to good use after lunch.”
“Seriously? I don’t get another go at her now?”
“Time’s up.” He shrugged. “I don’t make the rules.”
“Who does?” I exclaimed, throwing my hands up. Then, exhaling heavily, I plopped back down and slumped in my seat.
He smiled gently before nudging me to get going.
“Alright, alright. I hear you.” I got up and ducked under the ropes. “Thanks.”