The Heiress' Dilemma

12 | Fighting or flirting?

To prevent the weight of my gown from hindering my movements, with a breath of hesitation caught in my throat, knowing what I was about to do would be considered scandalous, I grasped the hem of my dress and tore a wide strip from the bottom, exposing my ankles. Everyone looked away and by everyone, I meant Vernon and Ederic since the servants were already asked to leave.

We circled each other, swords drawn, eyes locked in a battle of their own. The first clash of steel rang out, sending a wave of anxiety inside me. Each strike and parry was filled with a dangerous blend of skill while I struggled to defend against abrupt powerful attacks. I could feel the heat of his gaze, the tension in his every move mirroring my own.

His blade came at me with a fierce swipe, and I countered, our swords meeting with a resounding clash. It felt a little bizarre to be this close to him after our last argument but the adrenaline kept my mind out of any irrelevant thoughts. Every movement was a dance, a blend of aggression and precision, our swords in sync like passionate lovers dancing under the moon, barefeet and free.

I attempted to switch from merely defending myself to launching an attack. I lunged my sword forward, but he parried it effortlessly, immediately countering with another strike before I could react. In a fit of panic, I foolishly tried to block his attack with my hand. Blood trickled from my palm down to my wrist as the sword's edge sliced through my flesh. This couldn't get more embarrassing, could it?

Shocked, Vernon halted in his attacks. My right hand was still in good condition and stopping our duel because I injured myself would be pathetic so I caught him off guard by shoving my sword at him again. He immediately tackled, our swords meeting with a clink.

Sweat trickled down my forehead as I struggled to defend myself against his aggressive attacks- his signature fighting style. My breath came in quick, sharp gasps while he looked like he was on a daily stroll. His every movement seemed designed to provoke me, to reflect his superiority, and I hated that I responded so easily to his challenge. I resented how powerful he appeared against me.

A sudden shift in his stance caught me off guard, and I barely managed to deflect his blow. Feeling a surge of frustration on seeing his lips curl in a mocking smile, I attacked with renewed vigor, my strikes more aggressive, more reckless.

Swiftly, he slipped past my defenses, our swords locking for a brief moment before he twisted, causing me to lose my balance.

The next thing I felt was the cold edge of his blade pressed against my throat. My jaw clenched upon realising how easy this win was for him. His body was close-too close. I could feel the heat radiating from him, hear the steady rhythm of his breath near my ear.

My back was pressed against him, my neck exposed, vulnerable. I swallowed hard, the movement causing the blade to press just a fraction more against my skin. "Am I the best in the world in your eyes yet?" His voice sounded husky against my ear.

"Debatable," I answered slowly as he lowered his sword, his fingers brushing lightly against my skin as he did and I held in the shiver that it sent through me.

"You don't hold me like that when we fight," Ederic snickered.

Vernon pointed his sword at him. "No wonder you don't learn. You focus on everything except the fight. A shame, really-she has techniques that could actually help you." He buttoned his shirt with his free hand and walked away, leaving me seething in his wake.

"His arrogance destroys every ounce of respect I develop for his skills," Ederic muttered, analysing my countenance.

"A skilled, arrogant bastard," I mumbled under my breath, dusting the mud off my dress.