Page 13 of A Reign of Embers

“Empress Aurelia can hold her own just fine,” Neven pipes up from where he’s just joined me. The young prince volunteered to train alongside me, saying he wanted to learn even more after the two weeks he spent consigned to the soldiers’ quarters in Goric.

Kassun, who’s seen the most of my previous training out of my guards, speaks up in a more respectful tone. “I don’t think you’ll find any reason to complain about her mettle.”

A slight flush colors the captain’s cheeks. “I certainly wouldn’t criticize Her Imperial Highness. Is—is this the outfit you intended to train in?”

I glance down at my dress as he does. While I was waiting for my body to repair itself, I had time tocommission a couple of plain frocks for this purpose. The linen gown follows the usual airy Darium style, but with no extra layers or frills.

“You might be surprised how much movement a garment like this allows,” I say with a small smile. “And should I face another assassin—or, Great God help us, worse—it’s unlikely I’ll have time to change into proper fighting gear before taking action.”

Captain Evando’s flush deepens. “You’re quite right. Of course. Well… Do you have an idea of where you’d like to start?”

“I’ll admit my skills are relatively limited at the moment. Where would you begin with a new recruit?”

I’d imagine I have even fewer combat skills than a typical fledgling imperial soldier, but Evando appears to give the question genuine consideration. “You’ll want to build up your physical strength in general and get comfortable with whatever weapon you’re most likely to have on hand. We can also work in some strategies for making use of your environment. And basic combat without weapons, if you find yourself with nothing on hand at all.”

A gravelly voice pushes into the conversation from behind me. “You should focus on defensive techniques. Our empress won’t be risking herself rushing in to attack unnecessarily.”

I don’t know whether to be pleased that Marc took Lorenzo’s suggestion to heart or concerned that he’s forgetting his new place. The captain narrows his eyes at the supposed guard, probably peeved by the domineering tone.

The former emperor is still getting used to the idea that he isn’t the top dog in every room.

“Yes, that’s what I’ve discussed with my personal guard,” I put in quickly, resisting the urge to shoot a warning glare over my shoulder. I pat the sheath on my belt. “And when itcomes to weaponry, I’ve mostly carried a small knife, but I think it may be time I graduate to some sort of sword.”

So that I can better wield the Sabrelle-blessed sword that may be my key to gaining her favor.

Evando grunts. “Why don’t we start with physical conditioning and perhaps a few independent forms? We can work up to actual sparring.”

I nod. “Don’t go easy on me. I’ll speak up if anything’s too much.”

Despite my words, I think the captain does hold back at first. He sends me loping around the edges of the room and then into a series of simple arm movements and lunges. But as I tackle them with all the energy I can display, enjoying the first prickling of sweat forming on my skin, his qualms seem to dwindle.

He directs me through a few rounds of sit-ups and push-ups that leave my belly and my arms wobbling and then grabs a couple of small weights from a nearby rack. “It’s your arm strength you’ll need to develop the most if you’re going to swing a sword effectively. Core and leg endurance will keep your balance solid, so we won’t neglect those areas either.”

I huff a laugh. “I’m glad to hear it.”

As I heft the weights, relieved to find that the captain hasn’t started me on too torturous a challenge, I’m aware of Marc watching alongside my other guards. His gaze rarely veers from me. The intensity of it prickles into my skin, but I don’t acknowledge him.

He’d better not decide for me that I’ve had enough. My personal guards aren’t the only ones following my progress. More and more, the other soldiers training around me are glancing over, curious to see how Her Imperial Highness is faring. Neven, who’s joined their brief sparring matches,points over at me with hushed comments I’ll assume are in my favor.

By the time my shoulders and biceps are outright aching, I’ve gotten a few eager smiles and whoops of approval.

“That’s our empress!” someone shouts from farther back in the room.

Marc stirs as if annoyed by the irreverence but thankfully keeps quiet.

The hourly bell peals faintly through the walls. I swipe my hand across my damp forehead and aim a grateful smile of my own at Captain Evando. “I think I’ve pushed myself far enough for my first day.”

He surprises me with a chuckle and a twitch of his hand as if he was about to clap me on the shoulder like he might an underling. “It’s also important to know your limits. Whenever you want another training session, Your Imperial Highness?—”

“Same time tomorrow?” I suggest.

He tips his head. “It would be my honor.”

I retrace my steps through the halls with my guards following. “Wait ‘til they see you with a sword!” Kassun crows, and then hastily adds a respectful, “Your Imperial Highness.”

My maids are waiting in my rooms—the restored empress’s apartment I got to return to a few days ago. The change in wallpaper and much of the furnishings diminish the reminders of the traumatic struggle that took place here, but sometimes I think I catch a whiff of smoke that makes my pulse hitch.

While Marc takes his now-customary post right inside the door, Jinalle and Eusette usher me off to the bathing room with exclamations over my sweat-damp gown and mussed hair.

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