24. Training

Chapter twenty-four

Training

Mila

I stepped into the stables, out of the breathtakingly cold air. The silence in my rooms had been driving me mad. I hadn't been able to stop thinking about Han. How he'd been captured, what his last moments had been like. Remembering the look of devastation on his face in that last week before I'd left for court, when I'd told him we didn't have a family. Regretting that I'd wasted our last days together avoiding him out of a misplaced desire to protect him.

I couldn't protect him now. I could only hope to avenge him.

A stablehand shoveled muck in the farthest stall, but other than that, the stables were empty of people. Nearly empty of horses, as well. The full court wouldn't return for another day or two, bringing the rest of the stable's occupants with them.

I wandered through the quiet building, stopping to rub the nose of a friendly mare who nuzzled me in search of treats.

"None today," I murmured. I'd have to bring some carrots the next time I came.

A clanging sound drew my attention. I gave the horse one last pat and followed the noise to a door on the other side of the building.

The door was open, and I peered inside. A large room held wooden swords and blunted weapons, stuffed dummies and large unlabeled sacks. A training room. In the middle, shirtless, with sweat dripping down his back, was Alexey, a blunted sword in his hand. He faced away from me, executing a series of positions. The muscles in his back rippled as he moved.

Such grace, and yet such power as well. I didn't need to see him face an opponent to know he was deadly. What would it be like to have that power? To know that no one could hurt me? If I'd had a weapon and the skill to wield it, how different would my life be? I could have saved my son and Marya Ivanovna. Saved myself.

Possibly even stayed with Han and saved him when Miroslav had come to take him.

Alexey turned, following the motion of his sword, and froze as his eyes met mine.

"Sofia!"

My cheeks heated, and I bit my lip. "I didn't mean to interrupt. I heard a noise, and—" I broke off, looking away. There was nothing I could say to explain why I'd been staring at him. Nothing that wouldn't sound ridiculous.

He strode to the wall and set his sword down, picking up a crumpled shirt and pulling it over his head. "I apologize for my appearance. I didn't realize anyone else was here."

I should apologize and leave him to his training, but I had to ask. "Where did you learn that?"

"The drills?" When I nodded, he shrugged. "I've been studying swordplay since I was a child. My father worked here in the stables, and when I wasn't working with him, I'd come in here to watch the men train."

No wonder he was so skilled. He'd been training his whole life. "It's incredible. I wish I'd learned swordplay as a child."

The words had slipped out before I could stop them. Alexey frowned, looking me over. Would my mouth never stop? He probably thought it was inappropriate for a woman to want to learn such a masculine pursuit. "I mean—"

He cut me off. "You'd be better suited to a dagger, if you're looking for something to defend yourself."

I blinked, staring at him, as he walked to a large chest and opened it.

"Here." He pulled out a wooden dagger and tossed it to me.

It slipped through my fingers and landed on the ground at my feet. My face was in flames as I bent to pick it up. Thank Otets for Sofia's dark skin; as Mila, my embarrassment would be visible to everyone, but as Sofia, my tendency to blush was less apparent.

"Something that size would work better, and you could keep it on you." He walked toward me, stopping an arms-length away. "If it would help you feel more at ease, I could teach you to use one."

He was offering to teach me? I'd never considered it as an actual possibility. Fighting was for the men. Even my father, who'd taken me to inns and sang bawdy songs with me—much to my mother's chagrin—had never given me a weapon, never taught me to defend myself.

After a moment of silence, he pulled his hand back, glancing away. "I'm sorry. I was being presumptuous."

"Yes."

He looked into my eyes. "Yes?"

"Yes. I want to learn." Anything to give me a way to protect myself from men like Kazimir Vladimirovich.

Alexey gave me a wide grin. "Well, then." He took my hand, the one holding the dagger, and held it up. "The first thing is knowing how to grip it. How you're holding it now will only work if you're coming down from above. Since you're small, you'd usually be attacking from below." He took the dagger from me, flipped it over, and placed it back in my hand, wrapping my fingers around it. "Make sure to keep all your fingers below the blade, or you'll injure yourself as much as your opponent."

"Like this?"

"Exactly. There are three spots you should strike for maximum damage. Here," —he held my hand with the dagger to his neck— "here," —he moved it lower, to his gut— "and here." He stopped with my hand below his waist, the tip of the wooden dagger pressed against his inner thigh.

My breathing hitched at the intimacy of the position, but he released my hand and stepped back.

I stared at the dagger, wishing my heart didn't race with terror whenever someone stepped too close. "Shouldn't I aim for the heart?" I asked, more to distract myself than out of a desire for an actual answer.

"Not if you want to keep your weapon. It's hard to slip it between the ribs. If you hit bone, you could lose your dagger."

"The neck, the gut, and the inner thigh." I forced myself to meet his gaze. "Got it."

"Let's go through some exercises to get you used to it." He took a few steps back and stopped, leaning toward me with his legs spread wide. "I'll come at you, and you aim for my stomach."

I nodded, took a deep breath, and held the wooden weapon out before me.

He lunged, sending my heart back into a panicky rhythm, but I ducked under his outstretched arms and shoved the dagger into his stomach, hard. He jerked back, holding a hand to the spot where I'd hit.

"Otets' Blood!" I swore. "I'm so sorry. Did I do it wrong?"

He covered his face with a large hand, and his whole body shook.

"Fuck." Was he having some sort of shaking fit? Had I hurt him? "Should I get someone?"

He dropped his hand, and I let out a sigh of relief at the laughter filling his face. Not hurt. Laughing at me, but not hurt. "I'm fine. It was my fault." He lifted his shirt to examine the spot I'd hit. A bruise was already forming, a deep red on his dark skin. "You're stronger than you look. I should have put on a vest before we started."

"So I didn't do it wrong?"

He shook his head as he strode back over to the chest and pulled out a large leather vest. "Not at all. You did wonderfully." He shrugged into the vest and gave me a crooked grin as he tied the laces. "Now, let's try that again."

***

An hour later, I was sweating through my sarafan.

"I think that's enough for today." Alexey picked up a towel and offered it to me, taking the wooden dagger in exchange. "Lord Kazimir is expecting me, and I'm sure you didn't plan to spend the whole day here."

I wiped my face as I leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. "I didn't mean to keep you from your work."

His eyes twinkled. "This has been the most pleasant training session I've ever had. You've kept me from nothing."

I flushed at the blatant flirtation, even if he wasn't being sincere. "Well, I thank you for it. I've learned a lot." Not enough to fight a battle, but at least enough that I wouldn't feel completely unsafe when alone anymore. Tomorrow, I could go into the city market and buy myself a dagger.

He frowned at me. "I hope you don't think you're finished learning."

"I…yes?" I tugged at my braid, twisting the coiled curls at the end of it. "I didn't expect you to teach me everything. Or to teach me at all, honestly."

He stepped closer. I could smell sweat and leather, and my heart, which had started to calm, began racing again. From fear at his proximity. That was all it was.

"And you think you can defend yourself now?" he asked.

I opened my mouth and closed it again, shaking my head slowly.

"Then I suppose you'll have to continue learning." He gave me a cocky half-grin. "And who better to continue to teach you?"

I bit my lip. Did he really want to teach me, or was he being kind, in his own vain, flirtatious way. "I don't want to keep you from your duties or take up your leisure time."

He leaned in, one arm on the wall next to me, and said in a low voice, "You can take up as much of my leisure time as you wish."

Shiver ran down my back. I stepped sideways, putting distance between us, and swallowed. "It's a generous offer, Alexey."

He stood upright. "Then I'll see you here tomorrow before supper. Say six o'clock?"

He wasn't giving me many options. Not that I wanted them. If he was willing to teach me, I was willing to learn. I nodded.

He bowed. "Have a pleasant day, Sofia."

I walked slowly back to my quarters, relishing the feel of the cold air against my heated skin. I'd misjudged Alexey Grigorovich. I'd thought he was nothing but an insincere flirt, but he'd been sincere today, focused. Not until he'd pronounced the lesson complete had he returned to the teasing banter I'd come to associate with him.

I'd enjoyed the lesson. The exertion had been a welcome distraction, and I felt safer than I had in a long time. Brazen and vain as he was, it seemed Alexey was just the friend I needed here at court.

***

A few days later, I walked across the dining room of the Frozen Board, heading to wear Izolda sat at our usual table.

She looked me over. "You look awful."

I glared at her as I took off my coat and sat down across from her. "Thank you, Izolda."

"No, I mean it. Were you mauled by a bear?" She leaned back in her seat and waved over the barmaid. "Your hair is frizzed out of your braid, and—ugh!" She sniffed. "You stink of sweat."

Training with Alexey had taken longer than expected tonight, and I'd barely had time to change dresses before meeting Izolda. "I missed you, too. I'm glad you're back safely. You look lovely today, as well," I said, irony coating each word. I gave my order to the barmaid and turned back to my friend. "If you must know, it's been a terrible week." As if terrible could encompass learning that my husband and my best friend had both been killed by that monster Miroslav.

She frowned. "Why?"

I swallowed, staring down at the table. I hadn't told anyone about Han yet. Hadn't had anyone to tell. I'd done my best to put it out of my mind, sinking into my new identity as Sofia during the day. At night, nightmares plagued me, so I slept as little as possible, sitting up late by the fire drawing designs for new gowns and dresses.

But Izolda was a good friend. I could trust her, if no one else, with the truth about what had happened. Maybe telling someone would help stop the nightmares.

The dining room was loud enough that we wouldn't be overheard, but I lowered my voice anyway. "I heard what happened before the battle."

"Ah." Her face fell. "Yes."

"And H—" I choked on his name. He was dead. Even if someone overheard, they couldn't hurt him, but I couldn't say it. Couldn't bring myself to actually speak the words out loud.

Her brows knit together. "Your scarred stud?"

I nodded. Tears pricked my eyes.

"Oh, Fia." She reached out and squeezed my hand. "I'm so sorry."

Her sympathy felt worse than keeping it all trapped down inside. I pulled my hand from her grasp. I needed distraction, not pity. Distraction like my work. My vengeance. My training.

"I'm fine." I blinked the tears away. "Keeping busy." I gestured at my frazzled appearance. "I came from the training room."

Thankfully, she allowed the subject change. "Training room? What, are you learning to swordfight? Going to join the army?"

"Dagger, actually, and no." I nodded my thanks as the barmaid set a bowl of pelmeni and a mug of kvass on the table before me. "Alexey offered to teach me."

Izolda thumped her drink back on the table. "He what?"

Well, that reaction was disproportionate. "I came across him training and mentioned that I'd like to learn to defend myself. He offered to teach me the basics."

"I don't believe it." She stared at me. "Alexey's never even let me watch him train, let alone offered to teach me anything. And I've known him for years!"

"I'm sure he's just being friendly." I took a bite of the dumplings, savoring the taste of mushroom and onions. I was half-starved after training, which was another benefit; not only did it keep me distracted enough to keep my thoughts from dwelling on Han, I also didn't forget to eat. "Or maybe he wants the extra challenge."

"That's not ‘friendly.' He takes his training seriously. If he's giving up training time to teach you, especially in the middle of a war…" She shook her head. "He's got it bad for you."

"No, he doesn't." During our daily sessions over the past week, Alexey had been practical, to-the-point. He hadn't acted like someone with ulterior motives. He flirted with me afterwards, yes, but he flirted with Izolda, too. Otets, he probably flirted with everyone.

"Fia, I've never seen Alexey give up training time. For anything. Trust me on this. If he's even letting you watch his training, he wants more from you than friendship." She took a large swallow from her cup and shook her head. "He's dedicated, too. If he wants something, he goes after it with everything he has."

I picked at my food. What if Izolda was right? She had known him most of her life, so she would know his character better than I would. Flirting with the man was one thing, but if he wanted more…

She seemed to be thinking the same thing. "Talk about complications, huh?"

"I need a distraction. He's available." I shrugged, taking another bite. "I'm sure there are benefits to a relationship." I gave her a suggestive grin, but I wasn't referring to physical benefits. His position allowed him to hear things I couldn't, and if he wanted a relationship, I'd be able to glean more information from him. It wasn't as though I had anyone waiting at home for me.

I pushed that thought away. I wasn't Mila. Mila had died with Han. No, I was Sofia, and I would employ every strategy possible to make sure I got revenge against the monster who'd killed me.

Even if some small part of me rebelled at the thought of lying to Alexey Grigorovich.