Page 66 of Fires of the Forsaken
“Ach, see, Garvin got sloppy,” Belanna tutted. “Moved before he had his feet under him.”
The training session kept going, even with Garvin kneeling on the ground.
“Are…he…shit,”I hissed when a woman barreled into Garvin’s side, swinging her stick to ward off Cheriour’s attack. “They’ve got a man down. Doesn’t he need an ice pack? Something? Shouldn’t they at least be stopping?”
“He’ll get himself moving. Once his vision straightens again,” Belanna laughed.
My heart rolled over inside my chest—this time very much a terror response. Garvin got trampled four…fivetimes. “That’s barbaric,” I hissed. “And you call Cheriour anexcellenttrainer?”
“Aye. See, Garvin’s getting to his feet. No harm done.”
No harm done.Sure. The guy only had a broken jaw and a half dozen bruises on his body.
Belanna winked at me. “We’ll see if he’s learned his lesson. Always make sure yer feet are under ye, Addie. Very important.”
Dear freaking God.
I wassoscrewed.
20
Fecking Bright Eyes
“Stop fidgeting.” Cheriour tapped my hand as I tugged at my shirt.
I dropped my arm with a sigh and continued following him down the twisting stairway. “These clothes are so freaking uncomfortable,” I grumbled. The wool was as coarse as sandpaper. And my skin was super dry. Because, y’know, bathing in a wooden barrel with grimy water and ammonia-scented soap hadn’t exactly beenreplenishing.
“Yer lucky,” Belanna had said when she’d led me to the bathing room. “The water is fresh.”
“Fresh”my ass. That mucky bath probably gave me a staph infection.
I rubbed at my collarbone.
“Stop,” Cheriour said.
“How ‘bout you focus on walking? Don’t worry about what I’m doing,” I snapped.
As soon as he turned around, I scratched the itch rippling across my rib cage.
I also shouldn’t have tried to wash my clothes. Lesson #2 of the day. Right behind:don’t hop naked into germ-infested water.
As soon as I’d started scrubbing dirt off my clothes, everything came apart at the seams.Literally.My leggings morphed into crotchless pants. Panties?Pfft, gone. I’d refused to put my dress in the water—the only smart decision I’d made. Although, surprisingly, my bra had fared okay. Thankfuck,because bras weren’t a thing here, and my girls were way too boisterous to leave hanging loose.
So I couldn’targuewhen Belanna handed me the sandpaper outfit. It was either wear it or go nude.
I probably would’ve been more comfortable in the nude.
At least the new getup didn’tlookterrible. The plain black shirt was…well, ashirt.The sleeves were a little too long and it was snug around the bust, but it worked. The brown pants weren’t made for someone with a booty, so I’d had to leave the top laces undone, but they fit okay otherwise. The boots came a little over my knee and stunk to high heaven, but they molded to my foot like a glove.
Small mercies. I mean, the clothes could’ve been uncomfortable as hellandfuglier than a burlap sack.
Cheriour turned to face me again as I reached a hand over my shoulder, trying to get an itch on my back.
“Scratching will make it worse.” His lips twitched.
“Shut up,” I grumbled.
As we drew closer to the second floor, a cacophony of voices rose to greet us. Barbs of nervous anticipation shot through my chest, but I swallowed them and kept my chin high as we descended the stairs and turned the corner into the dining hall.
