I jumped to obey, but my heart stuttered in my throat. Because this guy had at least a foot on my five-foot-four frame, and his arms were the size of my thighs.
To be fair, most of the men in this class were like that.
There were ones larger than Prospect Six Hundred and Forty-Two, too.
But I usually sparred with the only other girl in the class—whom Master Cedric was now pairing up with this prospect’s usual fighting partner.
I shared a glance with the female, her expression showcasing how I felt about this development. It was a quick look, but we were both taken aback by this new pairing.
Of course, she always passed our assignments, while I always failed.
So she likely blamed me for this.
Which was probably accurate.
Only, I thought maybe things would be a bit different after last night. Master Cedric had been almost kind to me.
I’d thought I was in trouble after not immediately complying with his demand; he’d left me naked on that chair for what had felt like a half hour. I’d wondered if he would actually come back.
Then he’d returned with food.
And fed me.
Why had he done that?
“We are going to start with technique execution,” he announced as the final two students entered the room. “You’ll perform the routine from the last class. Then you’re going to use at least four moves from that sequence against your sparring partner.”
Well, that didn’t sound too bad.
“While your partner actively defends against your attack,” he added, his words sending a chill through my being. “There will be no rules or limits today. Defend yourselves as you see fit, and you are welcome to execute more than four moves on the offensive as well. Four is the minimum.”
He clapped, and the sound resembled thunder to my ears.
No rules or limits.
Sparring moves with open defense.
Against a male twice my size.
I looked at my new partner and noted the stoicism in his features. He wasn’t fazed by this at all. Actually, he appeared a bit bored.
Which, yeah. He’d just been assigned a mouse to beat up. If I were him, I’d be bored, too.
“Prospect Four Hundred and Seven, I want you to go first,” Master Cedric announced before addressing the rest of the class. “You all have five minutes to warm up, starting now.”
So he wasn’t giving me time to mentally prepare for this change either. Or maybe he didn’t want me to psych myself out.
Either way, I took his command and ran with it—literally—by doing three laps around the room before falling into my usual stretching routine.
My mind calmed with each movement, my body leading the way without much thought.
All the other students followed suit, everyone preparing themselves for today’s class.
After stretching, I went through two practice rounds of the fighting sequence before taking my position on the mat, ready to perform.
Master Cedric remained by his desk, still leaning with his ankles crossed, his hands tucked into his pockets. “Time’s up,” he said, his cold gaze landing on me. “Begin.”
I didn’t hesitate, falling into the first move and executing the routine just like yesterday. Only this time, I wore a pair of black stretchy pants and a white T-shirt.