Heir of the Gods

Ch. 21: Possible and Impossible

The elbow stopped less than an inch away from Cassia's temple.

Her eyes widened as the displaced air ruffled the stray hairs that had come loose from her braid and hung around her face. A startled breath huffed from her as she looked up.

The Sorvetian smiled grimly, his black eyes crinkled at the corners with amusement. "The knife in my hand is not the only weapon you need be wary of, Princess."

He stepped back, his smile widening into a smugness that made her swear under her breath—which simply made him laugh. She wiped her sweaty hand on her pant-leg, readjusting her grip on the knife Vestarin had handed her when she'd knocked on his door before the sun had risen.

"Expect your opponent to fight dirty," he instructed. "And make sure you do the same."

Cassia nodded sharply, determined not to be caught so off-guard again.

It was only her third lesson with Vestarin, but she had already learned the only thing more wicked than his humor was his skill. They had spent the very first lesson going over her ability—if one could really call it that—with a sword, and she blushed just thinking about how many times he had knocked the weapon from her grasp or 'killed' her.

And he still had the gall to say she wasn't that bad with a sword.

Vestarin paced away from her before spinning gracefully to settle into a ready stance. His knife was held low, his thumb pressed into the spine of the hilt.

The blade glimmered wickedly in the candlelight. Cassia reminded herself not to stare at the knife, raising her eyes to Vestarin's as she nodded to signal her readiness. 

Vestarin stood silent for a moment, then jabbed forward with the knife. Cassia leapt back, then leapt back again to avoid each deadly strike. He was ridiculously fast. Quicker than Julianus even, which was no small feat by her estimation. 

He forced her to move faster, sometimes recklessly so.

Another strike had her swinging her own knife down, the blades clanging as they met. Her eyes went wide with surprise as she glanced down at the blow she had managed to parry.

Then a hand was on her shoulder pushing her backwards and his calf slammed into hers, sending her to the floor. Cassia frowned up at the ceiling before she let her eyes drift to Vestarin, who was grinning like a devil.

"Show me how you did that," she demanded.

Vestarin laughed, extending a hand to haul her to her feet. Then he glanced toward the windows. Daylight was beginning to creep inside. With a grimace, he said, "Quickly then."

Moving slowly, giving her time to see and learn, Vestarin performed the same maneuver. A palm placed on her shoulder pushed her back, while his leg swept into hers, knocking it out from under her. She landed on the floor twice more, each time having the breath knocked from her, before she felt confident enough to try it herself.

Vestarin hit the floor with a dramatic "oomph" that made her roll her eyes when she attempted the move. Getting to his feet, he gave her one of those charming smiles of his, then said, "That is more than enough for today, Your Highness."

Cassia nodded reluctantly, wiping the sweat from her brow. She watched as Vestarin poured them each a glass of water before she joined him near the fireplace.

Standing on no ceremony, Vestarin flopped into one of the chairs, drinking deeply. More sedately, she took the other chair and drank, the water soothing her parched throat. Much to her displeasure, he'd hardly broken a sweat in spite of the fact that they had been at it for better than an hour.