Page 38 of The Crown of the Last Fae Queen
He must have seen the conflict on her face, because he scoffed. “I will not hurt the daughter of my commander. Now, come and fight me, or I’ll strike first.”
Kolfinna took a fighting position too, her legs spread wide, her arms up defensively, and her back straight. She wasn’t great at sparring hand to hand, or with a sword, but she had learned a great deal from Inkeri and Blár. Not enough to be impressive, she was sure, but maybe enough to hold her own footing. Or at least she hoped so.
Agnarr lunged at her, and she barely sidestepped, her knee coming up reflexively to jab him in the abdomen, but he swiftly moved away before it could connect. His fist grazed her shoulder, sending her hurtling back. He barely touched her, andyet pain radiated down to her wrist. She tried to ignore it, her steps light as she dodged his following attacks.
Sidestep. Duck. Deflect. It kept going on, her leg muscles cramping and her breathing becoming labored. Her hair came undone from her braid and stray strands were sticking to her sticky neck and cheeks. Agnarr hadn’t even broken a sweat yet.
“Are you going to keep dodging, or will you attack too?” he asked, slamming a fist at her chest. She jumped back, and his fist grazed her other shoulder, sending a jolt of pain.
“Are you going to finallylanda punch?” she taunted.
The corner of his mouth rose into a feral grin. “Are you sure you can keep up?”
Heck no. “Absolutely.”
Agnarr kicked her, hard. Kolfinna barely raised her arms to deflect the force of it, but it still sent her skittering backward. She yelped, rolling on the ground and tumbling down until she landed on her back, the air knocked out of her. She inhaled sharply, coughed, and doubled over.
“Agnarr!” she could hear Rakel yell. “What the hell?!”
“I didn’t think?—”
Kolfinna breathed out shakily. She could feel the heat clawing up to her cheeks. That was embarrassing. How was it that every time she trained, she was horribly humbled? It had happened at the Royal Guards, with Blár, and with Inkeri. Maybe she wasn’t as strong as she thought she was.
She pushed herself up to her wobbly knees, her gaze flicking over to Agnarr and Rakel. She was better at using magic, she reasoned. Fighting without magic simply wasn’t her forte. It was the only explanation that didn’t make her feel like garbage.
“You didn’t land a punch,” Kolfinna said as she rose up to her feet. She could already feel her healing magic working on her shoulders, and now her ribs. “A kick … doesn’t really count.”
Agnarr laughed, and it sounded both cruel and amused. “Another round, then, for our warm up.”
If this was a warm up, she didn’t even want to think about what the real deal would be like.
She leaped forward, intent on punching him before he could react, but he was too fast. He dodged and punched her. His knuckles scraped her cheek, and she gritted her teeth together as she was thrown back. She kicked before she could fall, but he jumped back, giving her time to right herself.
“You haven’t landed a single punch either,” he said with another grin. It looked even more sinister with the reddish bruises along his cheek and the cut on his lip. She wished she could hit him like Freyja had done—at least then he would stop looking so smug.
Kolfinna dipped away from a barrage of punches and jabs, her movements growing faster with renewed energy—the thought of bloodying his pretty face was rather motivating.
She lunged forward, her fist aimed at his face, but right when she thought it would land, he twisted and jabbed her abdomen, right above her stomach and below her ribcage. A liver shot. She was flung backward, breathless, and momentarily light-headed, before a final kick sent her rolling to the ground again with dizzying speed.
Her back crashed onto the ground and she released a shaky breath. The gloomy, grayish sky was twirling in circles around her and she had to blink several times to focus on what she was staring at. A moment later, Freyja’s head poked into view. Her strawberry-blonde hair was loose down her shoulders, and her silver eyes flashed like a cloudy sky ready for a storm. Her frigid veneer seemed to shatter away to reveal concern.
Kolfinna had no idea when the fae female had come into the courtyard.
“Are you all right?” She extended her hand and Kolfinna gratefully accepted the help, allowing the woman to haul her up to her feet.
“Barely,” she replied with a cough, her hand instinctively going to her abdomen where Agnarr had struck her. It still throbbed.
Freyja placed her hands on her hips and glared at Agnarr, who stood a few feet away with a scowl painting over his handsome features. Whatever she wanted to say, however, disappeared as she turned back to Kolfinna. “Do you know how to heal yourself?”
“Doesn’t it just naturally heal?”
“Well, yes, but you can concentrate your healing magic on certain parts of your body. It speeds up the process.”
She was learning more and more about her elf abilities to the point that she couldn’t keep up. Shadow magic, light magic, and now healing magic? She was already overwhelmed with her fae abilities, which she needed to improve on—stone magic, nature magic, and rune magic.
Freyja swept a hand over the skirt of her flowing pale-blue dress, which had a trail of embroidered flowers dancing over the material. Its scoop neckline swooped low, showing an ample amount of cleavage, which Agnarr was brazenly staring at.
“We don’t need to beat her black and blue,” Freyja began.
