Page 74 of The Call of Crimson
“Ah, no,” he says, far too pleased with himself. “You’ll have to train in that.”
I glance down at the lavender dress that hugs every curve. This one doesn’t lift my breasts as much as the others did, but the skirt is tight and leaves little room for movement. There is no way I can train in this.
Leaning down, I pull the hem up my leg to reveal the dagger sheathed against my thigh. Ayden’s heated gaze tracks the movement, his eyes lingering far too long.
“Eyes are up here, Prince,” I remind him sharply.
“So they are,” he says, but makes no effort to move his gaze upward.
Rolling my eyes, I unsheathe the dagger. Using the tip, I hook his chin and tilt his face up to meet mine.
“Up here, asshole,” I say pointedly.
He only shrugs, utterly unapologetic. “Not sorry.”
“Whatever,” I mutter, turning back to the task at hand.
I slide the dagger through the right side of the dress, cutting a slit all the way to the floor. The fabric tears easily, freeing my leg for movement.
I repeat the process on the left side, creating a crude but functional fighting skirt.
“If you didn’t want me staring at your legs,” Ayden says, voice roughened, “you probably shouldn’t have exposed them to me so completely.”
“That sounds like a you problem, Prince.”
Fifteen minutes later, we stand outside the training grounds, the sounds of swords clashing and soldiers’ grunts filling the air.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Darian huffs when he sees me step up beside the prince.
Rowina watches from the other side of the training grounds, a curious look on her face as she sees me approach the ring.
“No jokes here, brother,” Ayden says smoothly.
His navy eyes narrow in irritation. “I’m not training her, Ayden.”
“Hey, asshole,” I snap, crossing my arms. “In case you’ve forgotten, I am also a General. I don’t need you to train me. I just need someone to spar with.”
“Not happening,” Darian bites out.
“And if your Prince demands it?” Ayden asks.
“Don’t you dare try to pull rank on me,” Darian growls, voice deadly. He rakes a hand through his chestnut hair, then points a finger at Ayden. “Not with this.”
Ayden deflates slightly, shame flashing across his face. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Darian. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Look,” I interject. “I don’t want to spar with him. Darian probably isn’t even capable of keeping up with me.”
Darian scoffs. “I’m not dignifying that with a response.”
“You technically just did,” I smirk. “Regardless, I’ll spar with literally anyone else.”
Across the grounds, Aurelius’s voice cuts through the noise. “Then spar with me, little demon.”
Before I can respond, Ayden snarls, “Not fucking happening. You and I have things to work through, brother.”
“Still mad you don’t know how to handle your sword?” Aurelius smirks lazily.
“I can handle myswordjust fine when I’m the one controlling it,” Ayden growls, grabbing Aurelius by the arm and dragging him toward an empty ring.
