Page 73 of Crown of Serpents

“I’m a woman of many talents.” Medusa shrugged as she walked over to where Kleos stood. She reached for his sword. “You don’t mind, do you?”

He glowered at her, grinding his teeth, but handed her his weapon. Medusa had to stop grinning because Andromeda shot her a warning glance.

They began circling each other, swords gleaming. Kleos’s blade was heavy and unbalanced in her hand, but Medusa kept her eyes fixed on her opponent. She studied Perseus’s fluid movements, searching for any signs of weakness, embracing the predator crawling beneath her skin. Unlike the unfamiliar sword, this felt natural.

“Taking in your opponent is essential,” Perseus explained, never breaking eye contact. “Study them, wait for an opening. Search for past injuries. For example, Medusa—”

He lunged, swiping at her healing leg. She parried, sparks flying.

“—has an injured leg. If I wanted to hurt her, I would press that weakness.”

She could feel the eyes of the crew upon them while they sparred. The world narrowed to the rhythm of their dance, the clang of bronze on bronze, the push and pull. She twirled and ducked, growing familiar with the heavy weapon with each strike. He noticed her gained confidence, loosening his restraint. The approval in his eyes sent her heart skittering.

“Your blade is an extension of your body,” he continued, “use your weight to increase your strength.“

To demonstrate, Perseus stabbed for her side, forcing Medusa to sidestep, only to slice down with his blade with such force her knees buckled. She gritted her teeth, using her second hand to keep his sword away from her throat, but he was stronger. A cocky smirk spread on his face, and he winked at her. Medusa snarled, rolling out of the way as his blade crashed into the deck.

She was not used to her opponents being stronger than her, but with the blood of Zeus flowing through his veins, Perseus rivalled her power. It rankled.

Medusa launched her attack, a series of quick jabs that drove Perseus back toward the railway. The crew scrambled out oftheir way as Medusa cornered him. For a few seconds, she tasted victory.

Then, he suddenly closed the distance between them, robbing her of her breath and pinning her sword with his. Before she could react, he twisted her arm, sending her sword clattering to the ground.

He chuckled, his face hovering close to hers, “Now, this … is how you can disarm your opponent with a few easy movements. See, Medusa, I taught you something after all.”

Blood rushed to Medusa’s cheeks, and the crew cheered. She had had enough. When Perseus turned to leave back to the centre of the deck, Medusa kicked the blade out of his hands. For a moment, Perseus looked confused before amusement sparkled in his eyes. She flung his fist at him, and he ducked away with ease, neither bothering to pick up their weapons. Medusa swiped for his feet, but he sidestepped her again. Frustrated, she lunged. He caught her, twisting her arm, pressing her back against him.

With an arm around her neck, Perseus murmured into her ear, “You do seem eager to learn.”

She forced herself to look into his eyes, her veil the only barrier between them and smiled sweetly. He immediately slackened. As his gaze flickered to her lips, she hurled him over her shoulder. He slammed into the deck. She straddled him, pinning his arms. She hissed, digging her nails in. “No, godling, the only thing I'm eager for ... is to put you in your place.”

They glared at each other for a few seconds, panting.

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air until Kleos stepped forward, grinning. “Alright … Final lesson for today — don't get distracted by flirting with your opponent. Thanks for demonstrating, Perseus!”

Elias chuckled, sharing a conspiratory grin with the broad-shouldered named Meliton, whose usually broody eyes lit up with amusement. “Wouldn’t be the first time that’s landed me on my back.”

The men erupted in laughter.

Only then did Medusa notice how close her and Perseus’ bodies had been, their breaths mingling between their faces.Memories of the shared night bubbled up in her mind. She averted her face, blushing, but Perseus joined the crew, his laugh warming something within her. He scrambled to his feet, offering his hand to help her up as well. She reluctantly accepted, leaning into his touch as he steadied her.

“Well,” Perseus said, catching his breath. “Let’s practice. Grab your weapon and partner up. Try simple jabs and blocking first, and remember to use your body weight. Later, I’ll show you that disarming technique again.”

The sailors buzzed with activity, pairing off. Only Medusa, Perseus, and Andromeda remained. The princess hesitated, then asked quietly, “Can I learn as well? I would like to defend myself before reaching Seriphos.”

A few men turned in surprise.

Medusa nodded, but before she could step forward, Kleos intercepted, offering Andromeda a dagger with an ornate hilt. “I will train you if you let me,” he said. “You can use my dagger. It will be faster and easier to conceal in the folds of your skirt.” He waited, holding his breath, then placed the weapon in Andromeda’s hands after she nodded in approval. He turned to Medusa, sneering. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Medusa balled her fists — insufferable man. Yet, she bit her tongue when she saw Andromeda’s face light up as she beheld the dagger in her hand. Its slim shaft was bronze, gilded leaves, and flowers twirled around the hilt.

“Let them,” Perseus said behind her, gently tugging on her arm, “I have some advanced moves that I want to teach you … alone.”

Medusa’s stomach fluttered, but she raised an eyebrow, “Teach me? Last time I checked, I just bested you.”

“Only because you cheated,” he countered, both an admission and a challenge. He picked up their discarded swords, handing her one.

“I didn’t realise there were rules in sword fighting.”

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