Page 143 of Unrivaled
I was going to need to survive the fight with the man who’d seeded me myself.I’d need to do more to survive the backlash.
As I sat on the cold stone with Isolde and settled into the breathing exercises, thoughts of how that could go floated across my mind.I’d worked hard not to try to predict the fight with my father.I’d never accurately been able to guess what he did—not with any sort of consistency.I’d never seen him training with the men.The times I’d seen him in combat had been brief, brutal, and fatal.Calling them fights would have been an exaggeration—really, they’d only ever been executions.
I had nothing to go on.Trying to plan would only risk me focusing too hard on my own strategy and not responding to him in the moment.
The sound of the door opening below rippled through my mind.I noticed it, breathed, then put it aside.
“Point,” Isolde said.
I arranged my body into a position like a dog pointing toward its quarry, holding it while I continued to breathe.
“Swap.”
I put one arm down, the other leg down.The familiar sound of Chay’s steps approached.I arranged my body again to extend the opposite limbs.
“Full moon,” she murmured, as I heard him come in.
On all fours, I arched my back, feeling less stretch than usual, my muscles already warm as my body after good knappchs.The massage reallyhadhelped.
“Big stretch,” Isolde instructed.
I moved to invert the pose.The sound of Isolde and Chay doing the same, their quiet breathing, the click of a joint and sigh of fabric, was familiar and comforting.
I couldn’t plan for the fight.Icouldplan for the aftermath.
I’d done so somewhat, but it had beenad hoc.I acknowledged the thought and put it aside, focusing on the heat in my shoulders, the feel of my toes stretching against the stone.The mild physical discomfort alongside the comfort of my friends and the deep, steady breaths was a special kind of balm for the poor kicked beehive in my head and the ache in my chest.
“You can be uncomfortable, and still be safe,” Isolde had told me when I’d been bold enough to ask why we replicated the positions of hunting dogs, trees, drawn bows, and everything in between.“Your body needs to know that.”
We breathed, and she guided us into more uncomfortable positions.I didn’t know if I could have managed what I had since the last tourney had it not been for my ability to be simultaneously uncomfortable and calm.
I wondered if Luca did something similar, then decided he had to.He never went red-faced like some.When his breathing sped up, he managed it, same as I, riding the surge of that battle-energy the way I did.
Chay passed me my sword.I drew it, focusing on the sound of the steel singing against the sheath as it slid free.A ripple of anticipation went up my spine.
I’d never seen Luca train.For a moment, it wasn’t my tall, broad, black-haired companion who stood before me—it was the slightly shorter man with brown hair worn fashionably long so it fell in waves, his eyes the color of steel and his expression calm.
We drilled.It was Chay, not Luca, who lifted a leg and slapped my calf lightly with the flat of his foot by way of silent correction.I shifted my stance, drawing my mind back to the present, adding two additional tasks to my list of things to get through over the next little while.
Plan for the aftermath of my father’s death—or for my failure—to minimize risk to those around me.
Talk to Luca.
“You’re bright this morning,” Isolde said to Chay, when we broke apart.“For a man out late drinking with his friends.”
Absently, I noted the way her observation echoed the earlier comment she’d made to me.I expected any massage Chay had enjoyed had been more intimate than the one I’d had last night, but I doubted he’d been drinking.That wasn’t how Chay relaxed.
“It’s good to see them,” he agreed, catching the skin of water she tossed him.
“Missed Luca, have you?”Isolde needled.
I gulped the water from my cup, ready to cut her off, but Chay said, mildly, “Actually, I was glad he was there.”
The water went down my throat like it had become a rock.I winced as it travelled down to my stomach, leaving an ache in the wake of its passage.
“Why’s that?”Isolde pressed.“He reminded you that your average is better than his excellent?”
“Let it be,” I said, the words coming out as a croak.I winced again, swallowing a little more water to no avail.If Chay was overcoming his irrational jealousy of Luca, so much the better.Why remind him of his dislike?“I’ve time for another round of drills, Chay.”
