Birdie's POV:
I stared at the king, unamused.
Land a hit on him? He's a f*****g wall of solid muscle. If I have the next fifty years to train, I probably won't be up to a quarter of his strength. A sixteenth of his strength even.
His features are schooled to neutrality. I narrowed my eyes and sighed.
But I have to do this. I should just land a hit. He didn't specify the kind of hit it has to be. I can just tap him, right?
No. After all he's made me go through, a tap won't be enough. I want to kick him so badly.
"You really mean it, you'll send me back?" I asked.
"What, you don't trust me?"
Of course f*****g not! But I don't say that. I couldn't. I instead bit my inner cheek and assumed the stance Vance had taught me. I can hear his voice in my head.
This is how father taught
