Page 121 of A Kingdom of Shadow and Ash

Alina exhaled sharply, her breath curling in the cool air. She longed for steel in her hand, for the satisfying weight of a blade, not whatever this cryptic exercise was. With a resigned sigh, she loosened the cloak from her shoulders, letting it slip onto the gnarled roots of a nearby tree. ‘How am I meant to find you?’

‘Listen.’

So Alina listened.

She listened to the world in a way she never had before.

To the hushed scurry of unseen creatures darting between the underbrush, the whisper of rabbits rustling in their endless search for food. She listened to the wind threading through theleaves, shaping invisible patterns in the air. To the trees, groaning with the wisdom of centuries, their boughs creaking as if in quiet conversation. The rhythmic pulse of wings beating the sky.

And then—beneath it all—she heard it.

Footsteps. Soft. Careful. But present.

She spun just as Kai emerged behind her, his grin sharp, catching her before she could stumble over the uneven earth.

‘You are an excellent student, princess.’

‘Thank you.’

A flicker of pride warmed her, but before she could reply, he added with a smirk, ‘Though it is mainly due to you having the very best teacher.’

Alina rolled her eyes, shaking her head. ‘You really are incapable of giving someone a compliment without ruining it, aren’t you?’

Kai merely shrugged, an infuriating gleam in his dark eyes. He reached for a black sack he had brought along, undoing the ties to reveal an array of gleaming weapons. Alina leaned forward, eager to claim one, only for Kai to slap her reaching hand away.

‘Patience, princess,’ he chided.

Muttering under her breath, she retrieved her discarded cloak and spread it on the ground before settling onto it, determined not to dirty her gown.

Kai crouched before her, presenting each weapon like a storyteller unraveling a tale—their strengths, their weaknesses, the weight of their steel, the purpose of their design. He described their lethality with casual ease, offering personal assessments of their handling as if recounting the merits of fine wine.

And then, at last, he withdrew a blade meant for her.

It was slender, long but deceptively light,its gleaming surface honed to a needle-sharp point.

‘And this shall be your blade,’ Kai said, handing over a long but thin looking sword. ‘It is edgeless, which means it has a very sharp point. You can grip it with two hands.’

Alina glanced at it, disappointment pooling in her stomach. ‘But this isn’t for fighting.’

‘All swords are for fighting, princess.’

She frowned. ‘But it’s…’ she hesitated, unwilling to sound ungrateful, yet unable to ignore the stark contrast between her own weapon and the fearsome steel the wyverians carried. ‘It looks like a toothpick.’

Kai’s laughter rumbled through the trees. ‘It is lightweight and most importantly—it pierces through any armour.’ He stepped behind her, his presence a shadow against her back, his hands guiding hers along the hilt. ‘You’d be surprised, princess, that sometimes it is more important to be stealthy than glorious. No one will remember you or your sword if you are dead.’

Alina tried not to notice the warmth of his chest pressing against her spine, the firm grip of his fingers curling around her own. She tried not to think about the way his breath fanned against her neck, unbidden shivers skittering down her arms.

Then, as if realising it himself, Kai cleared his throat and stepped away.

They resumed training.

He adjusted her stance, nudging her feet apart, ensuring her knees bent at just the right angle. His hands skimmed her waist, adjusting her balance, and each touch burnt, leaving an imprint that she tried desperately to ignore.

But it was difficult—when every brush of his skin made her breath hitch, when her mind betrayed her with images of being pressed against a tree, of his lips against hers, of his hands exploring beyond the confines of training.

‘Princess, are you listening?’

‘What?’ Alina’s cheeks were flaming hot.

---