LIRO || completed

• 10.1 •

Liro laced the leather straps of her gloves tightly around her wrist. Her fingers tingled at the lack of blood flow, and her mind raced at the sight of Kier across from her.

The last time she'd been in this position, she'd cracked. Into a million itty bitty pieces, giving away her position with the Queen and threatening his.

In this ring, everything had gone wrong. And she was nowhere close to fixing any of it.

It would be a small miracle if she could afford to mess up even a fraction of movement. All of her writhing and gasping since reaching this place had left her with just little enough air to finally suffocate.

Liro rolled out her shoulders and neck, loosening at the thought of dodging his fists.

"I won't hit too hard," Liro called, stretching her legs one by one. "If you don't."

"This is a sparring ring, Liro?" Kier snapped. "Not a fight to a death."

Liro closed her mouth, focusing on her breathing. In and out, in and out.

Intention. Remember, only intention can wield your power. You don't want to burn him.

A small part of her did. A tiny, minuscule part of her that wanted to bite back against his hostility and uppity sense of self. That part wanted to hurt him.

That was the part of her that she would have to work to keep in check.

Liro walked to the centre of the ring, shaking out her arms and legs as she spoke to Kier.

"Why did no one tell me that this kingdom is divided down the centre?" Liro couldn't let the argument from before drop. She flexed her fingers in their constraints. Mother above, she was uncomfortable.

Kier stretched his own legs. "It didn't seem important."

"I told you, I like to know my options before choosing sides," she replied, raising an eyebrow as she studied him. At his silence, she pushed onwards. "So what were the Kings huntsmen doing away from him so long?"

"I was told they were escorting a diplomat to a neighbouring kingdom."

"You were told?"

"Not everything in this castle comes from a reliable source."

Liro's jaw clenched and unclenched frantically. "Do you believe it?"

"Enough of this." Kier stood, holding his body so upright he looked rigid. He furrowed his brows. "Why are you wearing gloves?"

"I didn't know it was prohibited."

"Your hands will slip around inside that leather. You won't have a good grip on anything."

"And sweaty palms are much better, are they?"

Kier sighed. "Gloves are cumbersome."

"The gloves stay."

He didn't try to stop her this time. "Do what you will." His words were barely audible as he backed away frowning. "You always do."

Liro clenched her fists as her muscles tensed, waiting to spring into action at any movement of her opponents. Kier was deathly still, surveying her. His head cocked to the side, absorbing every detail.

Anticipating her moves.

"Oh? So you can spit words back and forth, but trading physical blows is where you fall short?"

Liro glanced to her right, biting down on her tongue from irritation. Tyras stood at the edge of the ring, his eyes darting between them. He offered a wink once their eyes locked.