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The spymaster sighed. “I’ll send the message.”

“Thank you.” The prince’s attention shifted to me. “Now, we need to train.”

Chapter 9

NEVE

Sweat dripped down my brow, but I didn’t dare wipe it away or even take my eyes off Filip.

We’d been sparring in Luccan Riis’s training room for hours. Although I was starving and muscles I hadn’t even known I possessed were aching, I wasn’t about to give up. Not when I’d finally lasted a full five minutes against an opponent.

Sure, he was the smallest and youngest opponent Vale had pitted me against, and I hadn’t technically beaten Filip, but I’d take what I could get.

He was, after all, not without his skills. The squire had been training for many turns. He wielded this wooden sword with power. He didn’t tire as quickly as me. However, Filip lacked in one department.

His coordination was off—an odd predicament for a fae.

One I was determined to use to my benefit. I’d maneuvered us to the edge of the room, where I could useother means to defeat him. I inhaled slowly, taking in how he’d dropped his right shoulder. He was preparing for an attack.

When he lunged, I was ready for him. I twirled out of the way and used all my strength to shove the youngling into the stone. He slammed into the wall, groaned, and I whipped my wooden sword up so that the point grazed his neck.

“I did it!” I squealed. “You’re dead!”

“Don’t sound too happy about it.” Filip glowered, dropping his sword and rubbing his shoulder, which had taken the brunt of his weight when he hit the wall. “I’m going to go get water.”

Sian, who’d been judging his little brother’s every move, snorted. “The strong don’t run from a fight. Even if the fight is a female who, only today, learned how to use a sword.”

Vale did his best to hide his smirk. He didn’t succeed.

Filip growled, and, without saying another word, stomped from the room. Once his footsteps disappeared up the stairs, the males broke out into laughter.

I shook my head. I was missing something. “What’s going on?”

“Filip is going through a growth spurt—with his magic,” Lord Riis explained. “He’s already powerful enough to be named heir to House Balik, but he isn’t out of the woods yet. As younglings grow more into their powers, they sometimes become discombobulated. Filip has a turn or so left to experience that pleasure.”

“Clumsy.” I felt a little bad for the male I’d been tryingto skewer with my practice sword for the past hours. “He’s better than that, isn’t he?”

“He is,” Vale assured me. “But not today.”

“Well, I’d like to try sparring with someone whose body isn’t warring with them.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“He was still a challenge, no?” Thantrel asked, batting his long eyelashes. “Because, respectfully, Princess, you can’t handle any of us.” A smirk grew across his face. “Well, perhaps you could take on Arie.”

“Lay off Arie,” Luccan snorted. “It’s only fun teasing him when we get to witness how red he gets.”

But Arie Riis was long gone, returned to Frostveil to get away from his brothers, so that wasn’t an option, anyway.

“Vale, spar with me,” I insisted.

My husband took up a sword, one made of real metal. “Fine. You grab a real sword too. It’ll be good for you to feel the difference, even if you don’t practice with it often.”

“Then why practice with it at all?”

He smirked. “Because I don’t expect you’ll be getting in a single hit.”

I scoffed.

“Don’t worry, Neve,” his smirk widened at my indignation, “I’ll go easy on you.”