Page 9

He huffed a laugh. “One would think that a Lady would have manners when it came to her tongue.”

“My tongue is none of your concern.”

“What if I wanted it to be?”

Her mouth nearly fell open at his brashness. Cassius coughed, attempting to cover up a laugh beside her, and she whirled on him. “What?” she demanded.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone render you speechless, Seastar,” he said with a half grin.

Scarlett flipped him off as she turned back to the Captain. “Spar with me,” she demanded. His brows rose in surprise once more as he glanced from her to Cassius. “He is not my keeper,” she said in a lethal voice.

“Is your tongue his concern, then?”

Oh, she was going to enjoy this little sparring match far too much.

Cassius cleared his throat and answered, “No, Renwell, we are nothing like that.”

The Captain’s gaze came back to Scarlett once more, and he jerked his chin to the ring.

Scarlett followed him, and Cassius stepped off to the side. She met the Captain’s golden eyes as they watched her enter the ring. He held his sword at his side. It was a beautiful blade with a silver hilt, the pommel the shape of some type of star with small gems glittering throughout. The steel of the blade was so dark, it was nearly black. She’d never seen one like it.

“Your footwork is impressive,” the Captain said, getting into a ready position.

“I know,” Scarlett replied, raising her blade.

He chuckled. “You are ready then,Lady?”

Scarlett didn’t bother to answer as she lunged forward, striking the first blow with the rage that was thrumming through her veins after her conversation with Mikale and then the Captain.

The first blow was the only offensive move Captain Renwell allowed her to make. He deflected with ease and then rained down blow after blow. To her credit, Scarlett was able to block the blows, but barely. He moved so quickly. She wasn’t able to take in how he moved, and Nuri hadn’t been completely off base. Her skills were ones that couldn’t exactly be forgotten, but they could grow rusty when they weren’t practiced often. She hadn’t trained, not in the ways that mattered, in a long time. She wasn’t allowed to, and no one had sparred with her like this—

Her feet were swept from under her, and she was on her back with a blade at her throat.

“Train me,” she breathed, trying to regulate her rapidly falling and rising chest. It was the first time she’d felt alive in nearly a year. It was the first time she hadwantedto train in just as long. At the very least, it would give her a distraction from the monotony her days had become and get her back in shape for this assignment.

“No,” the Captain said, sheathing his sword and holding out a hand to help her up. Gone was the teasing and amusement. His face was all harsh lines and hard eyes now.

Scarlett allowed herself to be jerked to her feet. “Why?” she demanded.

“Your fighting style is too different from being trained by assassins and thieves. You would have to break habits and learn new ones. It would be annoying and not worth my time,” he said simply, turning to stride from the ring.

How could he possibly know who had trained her?

“Another match then,” she said, striding to the wall of weapons. “Only allow me a different blade. If you win, I will not bother you with my request again. If I win, you train me. Twice a week.”

He turned and seemed to study her, but not the way Mikale had. His eyes stayed on hers. His nostrils flared and slowly he said, “I do not usually indulge such pleadings from those who think they are better than they are.”Scarlett curled her fingers at her sides as she leashed her temper. The Captain seemed to glance at her hands before saying, as if bored, “Select your weapon then.”He turned to head back to the ring.

Scarlett crossed to the wall of weapons and snatched up her favorite sword. The balance was perfect. The hilt fit her palm in all the right places, nestling against calluses well-earned from years of training with thieves and assassins as he had claimed. She’d used the sword numerous times. It felt like an extension of her.

“Scarlett,” came Cassius’s low voice from beside her. “Be careful.”

She tensed. “I can beat him, Cass.”

“I’m sure you probably can, but…”

“I’m fine.” She reached over and plucked a dagger from the sheath at Cassius’s side and handed him her sword. Then she turned and, with her eyes fixed on the Captain, she gathered a side of her dress and cut a long slit up one side and then the other.

She could beat him, but not if she had to worry about being constricted by these damn skirts.