‘A letter arrived from your father this morning.’ Dion grunts as he blocks my attack.
Steel clashes upon steel, the vibrations all too familiar and welcome in the madness of my mind. My muscles screamed in protest as I practice lunging and parrying, thrusting my blade with the intention to kill, mustering all the strength my rage possessed behind each blow. It had only taken a couple of days without practice for my body to fall back into its lazy state, the definition in my abdomen and arms felt lacking. I’d lost my edge, lost my nerve and that had almost cost me my dignity and more importantly my chastity. The only reason men gave an ounce of interest at last night's ball, a stupid thing to pin a woman’s worth on. How pretty would I be on a nobleman or high fae male’s arm and to be claim
