How to court a storm | 𝘈𝘯 𝘐𝘴𝘦𝘬𝘢𝘪 𝘕𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭

(23)

As the sun lights the training grounds, Dahlia and I stand face to face, ready to engage in a friendly sparring session. "I'm hoping you do not go easy on me, my lady."

I give her an insincere, mocking smile. I can't help teasing her. "You will have to earn such a feat. I have no plans of fighting you full strength if you are not worthy of it."

I see a nerve on the side of her head twitch. She has quite the temper. And based on the interactions with the earlier knights, a slightly foul mouth. In a matter of seconds, her swords are wielded at her side and she's brandishing them toward me. The air crackles with anticipation, and I can't help but feel a surge of excitement coursing through my veins.

As the sparring match commences, I swiftly take control of the battle. My movements are precise and calculated, allowing me to effortlessly parry Dahlia's strikes and counter with lightning-fast attacks.

The clash of steel rings through the air as our swords meet over and over again. With each passing moment, Dahlia's defences crumble under the weight of my relentless assault. I've always favoured a more aggressive fighting style, never one to play with my prey unless I have a reason.

Her grip on her swords weakens, and desperation flashes in her eyes as she struggles to keep up with my pace. In a swift and well-timed manoeuver, I disarm her, causing her swords to fly through the air and clatter to the ground.

Dahlia, momentarily stunned, stands there, her hands empty, her face a mix of frustration and disbelief. I take a step back, giving her a moment to collect herself, before speaking.

"My lady," I say, my voice calm yet assertive, "You have much potential, but you lack in both finesse and strength. Spreading yourself so thin is doing you more harm than good."

She glances at the fallen swords, her shoulders slumping. But much to my surprise, she laughs. "I have to admit. It's the first time I've heard someone tell me I'm lacking in strength and strategic movement." Her eyes twinkle as she adds, "perhaps a couple of tips will be of help to me?"

A flicker of amusement warms my chest at her quick acceptance of her defeat. She's no doubt been told all her life she is exceptional, and whilst she is, I expected her to feel annoyed and display fury at being so easily bested and then offered advice. Most would think their opponent is mocking them and immediately go on the defensive.

I extend my hand toward her, a gesture of genuine encouragement. "I didn't come all the way from the Sinclair estate to only best you. That would be no fun."

It has the intended effect as she grins and gets back up. She then nods, her determination reigniting in her eyes. We walk toward her fallen weapons, ready to resume our sparring session with renewed focus. While victory may have come easily for me this time, I have a feeling she will prove to be a worthy sparring partner if she continues on her current trajectory.

Her eyes gleaming with determination, she grasps her swords tightly, the weight of her ambitions evident in her stance. I, too, hold my weapon firmly, prepared to challenge and push her a little more each time. We exchange a nod, before we begin again.

Swiftly, I weave through her defences, my movements fluid and calculated. My strikes land with precision, testing her reflexes and forcing her to react. With each clash, I offer subtle guidance, having her adjusting her grip and guiding her swordplay, allowing her to tap into a more...brutal fighting style.

"You fight like I expect a noble to." I tell her, giving her a cold look. "And whilst it is beautiful to watch, I must admit, it won't do you any good in battle with a powerful opponent." She needs to be aiming for the throat, not intending to disarm. Sweat drips down the side of her cheek, but she doesn't back down. "Fight to kill, not to weaken."