There was nothing elegant in the way the King of Thieves and Benedick attacked each other. During her time in training, Emberly saw and participated in numerous sparring matches. There was always a sense of refinement to those battles. This was the clashing of pure hatred and disgust. They fought like they needed to survive, not like those who trained to master a weapon.
They fought their way of the streets. They fought to end their opponent.
Their swords clashed together, Benedick pushing the King of Thieves to take a step back under the weight of his force. The sword from Duke Cesario’s was like an extension of his arm, like it was most at home while he wielded it.
Anger flashed through the king. He stepped back, lowering his weapon. They began to circle one another. “You always want
