Swords Against Swords

Chapter Seven

Sorry for the delay, but as a treat, I'll upload the next chapter as well! :D

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The next morning, I ventured to the fields for another swords lesson with Samuel. My heart was thudding against my rib cage when I recalled the last time we were together. It seemed like a million things had happened since then.

I came upon Samuel already swinging his blade around as he was the first time we met, but this time, I knew better than to sneak up on him. When I entered his field of vision, he stopping his training and wiped the back of his hand against his forehead while fixing me with a smile.

"Good morning, Princess." He greeted, reverting to my formal title even after I had asked him to call me by my name.

I saddened slightly to hear the formality in his tone, but I returned his smile with a tight one of my own. "Good morning."

"Shall we begin?" There was no humor in his voice, no merriment as I had grown accustomed to and that was a bit disheartening as well.

"Of course." I agreed, monotonously.

Taking my stance, I lifted my blade and awaited his attack.

Samuel chuckled slightly, and I raised my eyebrow. "Is something that matter?" I snapped, a little too harshly.

"Your stance is all wrong. Yesterday's form was much better than this. I can't think that you've suddenly regressed overnight. I suppose I should be asking you if something is the matter." He stuck his sword into the earth and crossed his arms.

"No." I blinked. I didn't realize I seemed so off put. "Nothing is the matter. Pardon me." I relaxed my stance with a sigh and tried again.

Samuel shook his head. "Still wrong." He stepped over to me and pushed my elbow up higher. His other hand rested on my shoulder and gently pushed them down to release the tension in them.

My breathing hitched when I heard his voice come from directly behind my ear.

"You're too stiff. Try releasing some of that tension and..." His actual words didn't register with me. The only thing I could think of was his breath tickling the back of my neck and the warmth of this hand seeping through my tunic.

"Straighten your back." He ordered while his hand slid down to the small of my back.

I nodded quietly and let him adjust my position to whatever it was supposed to be, and all the while, my heart thundered in my chest. If he were to rest his hand on my back too long, he'd notice it the frantic pounding building in me—at least, if he hadn't already.

Before I knew it, though, Samuel was before me, and all the heat from the space he occupied was gone. He stood ready in his stance, his form as impeccable as ever and nodded to me in indication that he was ready to fight.

I shook all other thoughts from my head as best as I could, putting Armaand and Samuel to the back of my mind, and focused instead on the blade in front of me. Seeing only the body and not the man.

We fought normally. He took the offensive, and I took the defensive in the beginning and then changed roles after he slipped up—whether intentionally or unintentionally, I did not know—until one of us was on the ground with the tip of a blade at their neck.

Unfortunately, today, it was me.

I panted heavily and stared at the ground in frustration. Despite my efforts, I wasn't able to completely erase all outside thoughts from my head. My mind was still riddled with confusion and swimming emotions.