[Unnamed]

Unknown chapter; somewhere in book 1.

My arms heaved as I crossed the knives above my head, catching the sword just before it could cut me in two. Pushing back, I thrusted myself away from my opponent.

"You won't get very far if you keep prancing around like that, sweetheart," Crenshaw cooed at me from across the ring, crooked teeth revealing themselves in a grin.

"You won't get very far if you keep lumbering around like a giant idiot with a stick," I sneered back. The audience around us roared with laughter, mixing in with the cacophony of the pouring rain that drenched us.

I could almost taste the anger rising up in Crenshaw as he yelled profanely, charging at me for another assault.

This is too easy.

My legs lunged forward before I could entertain another thought. I dipped just under the sword that swung for my head, jabbing the leather-coated stomach with the hilt of my dagger as I slid through the mud. The tall man wretched forward allowing me access to swing my leg into the backs of his now vulnerable knees. I watched as he stumbled to the ground, dragging his pride through the earth as well.

The Kings Guard roared around us, whistling and cheering. Of course, as the only female member of the Silent Ops, they loved to watch me take down large opponents.

I stood and made my way around Crenshaw, who lay heaving in the mud. "Oh don't feel too sorry for yourself. You actually lasted a solid 45 seconds unlike our last little training session."

I threw the daggers into the ground just a few inches from his fallen form. Crenshaw lifted his head. "Ugly bitch," he spat, wiping his muddy face.

My breath hitched only for a split second before I breathed it out in a small laugh, not letting the repetitive, familiar insult get to me again. I was not weak anymore.

Turning on my heel I faced the rest of the Guard. "Would anyone else like a go? I'm buying drinks for any man who can stand a fight longer than this buffoon."

Most of the guards shouted, wanting to step into the arena to test their own strength. Then, an unanticipated voice chimed in from behind that silenced the rest.

"If it's not too much to bother, I would like to test my skill against the champion."

I turned to see a man's figure emerge from the crowd, his soft blonde curls clinging to his rain-soaked face as he approached. I stood frozen as my eyes raked from his boots to his earthy gold embroidered tunic, until I met the gaze of two eyes that shone like emeralds under a firm brow.

I quickly dropped to a knee as the Crown Prince of Harlan approached the center of the arena.

"Prince Ryken! Your presence is unexpected!" I scrambled for words, my free eye fixed on the muddy earth in front of me.

"My apologies," his boots stopped in front of me, "I for once wanted to engage myself in all the excitement that my Guards seem to always have in training. Your reaction, however, suggests I might've just killed the fun."

I felt a strange heat rush to my cheeks, though I was still looking at the ground.

"Of course not, your majesty." I raised my chin to meet the young man's face, taking in his sharp bone structure up close.

The prince smiled kindly. "That's a relief. Well then, stand up." He held out a gloved hand in front of me. I hesitated only for a moment before gripping the hand firmly and rising to my feet. The prince stood at least a foot taller than me; a height that supported the build of a seasoned warrior. I'd never seen the prince train, let alone fight. But I wasn't going to underestimate his skill.