Beatrice POV
"You're holding it wrong." Kaelen adjusted my grip on the training sword. "Looser. Let the weapon move with you, not against you."
It was my day with him, and he'd dragged me to the training grounds at dawn. I was already sweating through my shirt.
"Like this?" I shifted my fingers.
"Better." He stepped back and raised his own sword. "Now defend."
He came at me fast. I barely blocked the first strike. The second knocked me backward. The third sent my sword flying.
"Dead," Kaelen said cheerfully. "Try again."
I picked up my sword. "You're not going easy on me."
"Would you want me to?" He waited for my answer.
I thought about it. About all the years people had treated me like I was nothing. About Eamon's rejection. About being called weak and worthless.
"No," I said. "
