Page 58 of Kiss the Filthiest King
"People don't have to be compatible to enjoy each other's company," he replies wisely.
I decide it's a good thing. At the very least, it suggests I don't have to worry about one of them throttling the other right now.
"You really ought to rest, though," he tells me once the bounds are off.
I sigh. "I wish I could. There's just too much going on. Too many uncertainties. Plus, sleeping is apparently not safe for me."
He nods like he understands. "Well, there are ways to rest the mind other than sleeping and fucking."
* * *
"I shouldn't have let you convince me to do this," I whine. "Give me a moment."
Caenan, cruel creature that he is, shrugs off my plea. "Do you think an enemy would give you a moment? Again."
It's been at least two hours. In fencing club, each bout lasts a few minutes, less than ten. But he comes at me again and again, expecting me to parry each attack. I'm too green to hope I might actually go on the offensive, and as he pointed out, anyone attacking me would likely be much stronger than me. My job is solely to ward off their onslaught for long enough to get rescued. Like a damsel in distress. Ugh.
"My arm is going to fall off," I grunt after deflecting again.
"Fine," he allows. "Let's call it a day."
I drop on the floor where I stand, in the small parlor we commandeer to train away from the others.
He laughs, and joins me on the ground. "You're not that bad, you know. I don't think I handled myself as well at twenty-four."
"Truly?"
He nods. "But we ought to find some time for training each day. Then, maybe you might actually manage to hit me in a century."
"Where did you learn? Swordplay."
"Same place as everything else—reading, writing, spells, politics, music. Ryther taught me. As a general rule, fae lords don't truly bother with their children until they're seven. By the time I was that old, I'd been sent to the wild. Ryther…" He smiles, seeming lost in memories. "He doesn't believe in hiring a bunch of tutors and forgetting about kids until they can drink wine, you know? He kept me around. Taught me either by letting me watch what he did, or by showing me how. He'll be a good father, when you have children."
I'm startled into speechlessness and Caenan is content to remain silent.
"I've never thought about children one way or another," I finally say. "I mean, I thought I couldn't have any. But if I truly can, well, it's not something I want now. Not for a long time."
"Good thing you already have an heir, and a literal eternity to live, then."
That's true; Lochcansucceed me. And he’ll do a better job than me, no doubt.
"So long as I survive all the lords who want me dead. And you know, my own mate."
"Yes, that," Caenan agrees.
“I had an idea about that,” Ryther’s voice calls from the shadows moments before he appears.
I jump a little. Christ, how long has he been lurking?
“How would you like a change of partner?” he offers. “I figured, if we spar with each other?—"
“Maybe we’ll be less likely to want to kill each other in our sleep?” I finish for him. “I don’t know. It doesn’t sound…safe.”
Even as I speak, a flurry of intense feelings war inside me. I want this—what he’s offering. I want to hurt him. And I can’t trust that.
“Come on. We’re awake. And fucking seems to alleviate some of their influence. Fighting might work just as well. In any case, Caenan pulls his punches too much with you. You won’t learn much if he keeps going easy out of deference.”
My trainer grimaces in agreement. “Yeah, somehow I can’t bring myself to actually try to hit the queen.”
