Page 21 of The Throne Seeker (Vallorian #1)

S omehow, in nothing short of a miracle, Zareb kept his promise to train Rose.

The night’s cold front had left a delicate frost on the ground and trees, but as the sun crested the hills, it warmed the ground, creating a light fog.

The servants were barely putting out the torches when Rose and Zareb entered the stables to ready their horses.

“We’re going to train in the forest. It is a bit of a ride, but under present circumstances, I think the distance is best if you want to keep the element of surprise,” Zareb stated, scanning their surroundings for any onlookers. “Did you bring a change of clothing like I told you?”

“Yes,” she confirmed, gesturing to her shoulder bag. She swung her leg up and over, mounting her horse.

“Good.” Zareb checked her saddle straps to confirm they were secure. “Those dresses will only hinder you in a fight.” He eyed the green fabric draped over her horse.

They traveled along the main road until Zareb veered into the dense trees. Eventually, they came upon a small, open meadow with a narrow creek on the far side. They guided their horses to the water, allowing them to drink first.

“Change here,” Zareb instructed. “I’ll wait for you in the clearing.”

She made quick work of the swap, replacing her dress with a fitted tunic and pants, the same ones she wore while training with her former mentor, Warren.

The black fabric hugged the lean muscle she’d built while she was away.

Not that her muscles were large by any means, but the modest dresses she wore dissuaded questions they’d rather not answer.

In a way, her sparring clothes were liberating.

They gave her permission to be someone different. Someone bolder.

She threw her hair into a ponytail and rejoined Zareb in the middle of the meadow.

Zareb turned to offer her a sword but paused mid-motion as soon as he caught sight of her. She couldn’t tell if he was judging her or if he was simply surprised. A flush crept onto her cheeks.

He cleared his throat. “We’ll start with the basics and go from there,” he said, handing her the sword. “I want to see how skilled you are.”

She grasped the hilt, becoming accustomed to its weight, relieved to find it similar to the one she’d used sparring with Warren. It’d make it easier to get used to.

“You advance first,” Zareb said, taking a few steps backward. “We’ll keep going back and forth until it flows naturally.”

Warren’s encouraging voice filled her thoughts as she paused to take in her surroundings.

The first thing I always want you to do, no matter what you are doing or where you are going, is observe your environment.

Awareness of where you are will always be vital in protecting yourself and others.

There can be advantages and disadvantages; if you’re aware of them, you can maneuver yourself to deflect or attack better.

She looked to the sky; she could use the sunlight as a blinder, making it harder for Zareb to see her.

Her gaze shifted back to the tree line. It could serve as a shielding barrier if necessary.

But natural obstacles could also pose a terrible risk, potentially blocking off escape routes and restricting her mobility—cliffs and water especially.

She refocused on Zareb, observing him as an opponent.

She couldn’t compete with his strength, so she’d have to play to her own advantage.

Throughout her training, she’d learned the importance of speed and precision, which she’d honed lethally—at least according to Warren.

He had ingrained it into her with countless drills and footwork exercises.

Being smaller had its benefits: less mass to target, a lower center of gravity.

She searched for a weakness, but she doubted Zareb had many, if any. Her one advantage lay in the element of surprise, which she had learned to exploit to the fullest.

She widened her stance and rotated her hips toward him. Firmly grasping her sword, she bent her elbows, keeping them tight against her sides. In a flash, she lunged forward, keeping her arms tucked inward to prevent overextending. She aimed for his exposed left side.

Just in time, he blocked her strike, the clash of steel resonating through the trees.

Undeterred, she tried again, now more confident, swinging her sword toward his other flank. Zareb countered her blow, pushing her attack back. She jabbed at him again.

Almost immediately, she realized her mistake.

Zareb sidestepped, jamming his sword’s hilt into her side.

She winced, stumbling from him. Although her pride was the only thing truly wounded, knowing it wasn’t even close to a hard blow for him.

“Avoid jabbing like that,” he instructed, mimicking her movement. “Jabbing too soon leaves your upper body and side exposed. Only use it when your opponent is extremely vulnerable. Just as raising your hands above your head would be.”

She nodded, still rubbing her side—a stupid mistake.

“Remember, your sword is simply an extension of yourself.” He held out his arm and blade. “Your body is the weapon. Now, I’ll attack first.”

He waited until she was ready. When she gave the go-ahead, he lunged.

She sidestepped, raising her sword quickly to meet his. Her instincts took over, and rather than blocking the strike altogether, she angled her sword downwards while advancing, redirecting his blade away, using her back leg to deliver a powerful kick to his chest.

The move caught Zareb so off guard that he lost his balance and fell. She quickly kicked his sword out of his reach and pointed hers straight at his chest.

She gazed at her own arm like a foreign object.

Zareb looked up in sheer astonishment, his eyes glinting in admiration. “Now, that was worthy of a soldier.”

Her mouth curved into a triumphant smile, reaching down to help him stand.

He dusted himself off. “Again.”

He never let her get the upper hand after that.

They spent the following hours sparring, the movements becoming more natural to her. She was grateful for his unwavering patience as he offered tips and suggestions. He praised her small victories and pushed her to her limits. For the first time, she could use her full strength.

When their time was almost up, Zareb had them do foot drills, performing each one alongside her. At last, when he was finally satisfied with the work she’d put in, Zareb relented.

“That’s enough for today,” he said, panting as beads of sweat ran down his temples. She was glad to see he was just as out of breath as she was. “You did well,” he praised, handing her a canteen.

“Thank you.” She gave him a breathless smile, taking it.

“No, really,” he continued. “I don’t know anyone who could fight like that with only a year of experience. You were trained well. You’re ready for the succession if you choose to join.”

Her heart warmed at the praise. She raised the canteen to her lips. “Do you think I could use these tactics to fight off some of my suitors?”

Zareb let out a harsh scoff. “I’m afraid you’d have to get past your most skillful foe first.” He paused, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Your mother.”

A light, airy laugh escaped her as she handed him back the canteen. “A worthy opponent indeed.”

“I’ll give you some minerals for your bathwater,” Zareb said. “You’ll want to stretch, too.”

“It’s not all that bad.” She craned her neck. It wasn’t like this was her first training session.

Zareb gave her a knowing look. “By morning, you’ll be saying different.”