Page 35 of The Princess Knight
His strong arms flowed from one position to the next easily. Even using a lesser sword and practicing very rudimentary moves, there was a grace to him. Clía tried to mimic his movements, pushing forward, lowering the sword from above her shoulder to her side. But when her hands shifted around the hilt, she stumbled.
“Your footwork is good, but it might help to loosen your grip.” Ronan wrapped his calloused fingers around hers, adjusting them. His arm brushed hers as he backed away. “Try again.”
She did as he said, and while her shift between positions wasn’t perfect, she didn’t drop the sword and she didn’t lose her balance.
Her arms might ache, her face hot as the sun rose higher, but her grip was getting strong, her stance felt more natural, and her confidence was growing.
“Good.” He nodded. “I think you’re ready to deflect some actual blows.”
Clía’s eyes widened. “Now?”
“There’s no better way to learn.” He picked up his sword and motioned for her to do the same.
When he lunged, Clía stumbled into position, and was rewarded with the thud of his blade meeting hers. It was far from a perfect block—her sword nearly fell back with the force of his—but she had done it.
A smile crept onto her face, and only then did she notice a similar one on his.
She was doing somethingright.
They repeated the drill again and again, but while she could block him, it never came easy. She was too aware of her body,thinkingtoo much, and she couldn’t seem to stop.
Ronan struck again, and his blade stopped inches from her skin.
“You need to turn off your brain,” he said to her, pulling back. “You’re too anxious. Let your instincts take over.”
“I don’t think I have those,” she replied, her breath coming in harsh pants.
He only laughed. “Of course you do. You just haven’t had the need to use them before. Here.” He took the sword from her hands, placing it on the ground. “Whenever I need to get out of my head, I try to ground myself in my body and my surroundings. Close your eyes.”
Clía did as she was told.
“Tell me what you hear.” His voice was quiet.
“Your annoying voice.”
His laugh was a deep, rich sound, sending a rush of warmth through her core. “Other than that.”
She was quiet for a moment. Listening. “Birds singing. The wind in the grasses.” She focused even more. “A stream, not far away from us. To the east.”
“Good, now tell me what you smell.”
“Dirt. Earth.”
“Okay, and what do you feel?”
“The breeze. I feel the seam of my bodice. It’s itchy and rather annoying. I’m going to burn it.” He coughed, and she tried to focus again. “I feel my heart racing.”
“Don’t let that affect you,” he whispered. “Just notice it, like you notice everything else around you. And open your eyes.”
She did. He stood right in front of her, his face inches from hers.
She’d never noticed before the streaks of gold in his amber eyes. In the morning light, they glowed like flames.
He blinked and stepped back, separating them. “Is your mindquieter now? If not, sometimes I start to list the things I see, and that helps.”
The expectations placed on her that always followed her, the ones coming from others and the ones coming from herself, seemed farther away. They had buried themselves into her heart and mind and often made it impossible for her to think about anything else, but in that moment, she felt like she could breathe again.
“Why do you need to get out of your head?” she asked, her voice soft.
