Rowan Wins
897 Words
I kept wondering why he cared. I was getting too close to these men, when in truth I shouldn’t have been at all.
I didn’t have the strength to return to the dining hall, so I took a cold shower and went straight to bed instead.
****
The next morning came quickly. I had woken up late, and my roommate was already gone. For once, I was glad to have the room all to myself.
I sat at the edge of the bed for a while, trying to gather my thoughts.
I missed my family. The ache of it was heavy.
But the image of Rowan covered in blood kept replaying in my head. It made me angry, it made me hurt. And it reminded me why I had to keep going, why I had to stay strong enough to face Malric.
I went into the bathroom to wash up. That was when I heard the door open . My heart raced. I quickly turned off the shower, every sense of me went on alert mode.
“Who’s there?” I called, forcing my voice to sound steady.
Silence.
“I said, who is there?” My voice was sharper this time.
“Relax. It’s Cruz.”
Relief didn’t come. I stayed tense.
“I’m in the shower. What do you want?” I asked, irritation slipping through.
“I didn’t see you in the dining hall, so I brought your food,” he said.
That wasn’t necessary. “Just leave it. I’ll be out soon.”
I finished bathing, then stayed in the bathroom to do the necessary. It wasn’t like I had my usual skincare, only the basic supplies the men used.
When I finally stepped out, I froze. Cruz was sitting on my roommate’s bed, arms folded, eyes fixed on me.
The shock nearly made me slip, but I caught myself quickly.
“What are you doing here? And why the hell did you come?” I asked, clearly annoyed.
He didn’t answer immediately. “Morning to you too. Brant is waiting. Being late comes with consequences.” His words were calm, but his eyes lingered on me carefully.
It felt like he suspected something, like he was waiting for me to slip. Maybe I was only imagining it, but I couldn’t shake the thought of him knowing what I have been hiding.
“I’ll eat first, then join you soon,” I said, hoping he would leave.
But Cruz just stared at me, his gaze so sharp it made me shiver. Then he finally stood and left without a word.
The moment the door jam closed, my knees weakened. I collapsed onto my bed, breathing hard.
****
Brant’s voice carried authority when training began. “Time is currency for every leader. One minute late, and you’re out.”
I bowed my head slightly. “I apologize. It won’t happen again.”
It had been difficult enough just to get through the morning, but excuses didn’t matter here.
“For today, we focus on sword training,” Brant announced.
My stomach tightened. Swordsmanship was not my skill. How was I supposed to survive this?
“You’ll spar in rounds. Rowan, you…”
“I’ll go first,” Ash interrupted.
Everyone turned to look at him. Brant didn’t question it, simply agreed. I couldn’t shake the feeling that Ash had done it for my sake.
Cruz’s eyes were on me again, sharp and unyielding. I quickly looked away.
When Ash passed me, he murmured just low enough for me to hear: “Watch closely.”
That confirmed it. He knew I didn’t have the skill to fight with swords, and he was trying to help me.
I forced myself to focus, watching his every move. If I wanted to survive, I had to learn really fast.
Ash fought with ease, almost as if it were his second nature. His opponent pressed hard, but Ash’s style was fluid and confident. The clash of swords filled the room, making the air heavy with anticipation.
I didn’t doubt he would win, and he did. Brant’s voice rang out. “Ash wins.”
Ash returned, gave me a small smile, and I couldn’t help but return it faintly. His message was clear: You can do this too.
And then, it was my turn.
I stepped forward with cold feet, facing an opponent of similar build. He looked delicate, almost harmless, but I knew better than to underestimate him.
“Begin,” Brant commanded.
We circled each other slowly. He struck first, and I barely managed to block, my arms shaking with the weight of the blade.
Remembering Ash’s movements, I pushed back quickly, forcing him to defend. For a moment, I had the upper hand.
But my focus slipped. My opponent lunged with a sudden burst of power, and my sword snapped cleanly in two. The broken pieces clattered to the floor, leaving me weaponless.
But the moment he thought he had won, I struck. A swift punch to his ribs. His body faltered, his grip on his sword loosened, and I snatched it from his hands. In one motion, I held it straight at his throat.
“You fought dirty,” Brant said flatly.
Before I could answer, Cruz spoke up. “But no rules were given.”
Brant hesitated, then gave his verdict. “Rowan wins.”
- Writer
