Chapter 18

You can’t strikeat another without making yourself vulnerable.

~ Ranger Lord Vlerion of Havartaft

Kaylina arrived at ranger headquarters precisely at dawn and set her crutch against the courtyard wall inside the gate. Maybe it was foolish, and she should have pretended more feebleness than she felt, but her pride wouldn’t let her hobble around in front of Vlerion and Targon.

To her surprise, the doctor was the first to greet her.

“Heard you’re getting trained today,” he said.

“Yes. Unless you want to examine my leg and declare me too injured to learn sword fighting or whatever happens on Day One.”

“I examined it the other day. It’s coming along fine. But Day One, as you call it, tends to be challenging. A lot of the early months are designed to improve your strength, endurance, and balance, so you’ll be ready for long days of riding taybarri, surviving in the mountains, and going into battles when they come.”

Kaylina shook her head, though the idea of riding her own taybarri was appealing. Other than a brief jaunt through town on Crenoch, she hadn’t done more than pet them. Or be licked by them. What would it be like to ride on their backs as they loped across the miles and flashed to discombobulate enemies in battle?

“You’ll want this. And I can also offer this.” The doctor dropped two of his compressed-horse-dung pills into her palm, one the familiar green and the other orange. He also handed her a pouch that probably held more of them. “Take them twice a day. That one, you know well, and it’s to help with the pain. That one isn’t something I’d usually prescribe, but it lifts the mood a bit, helps everything seem less onerous. Might even make you laugh while you’re doing push-ups with your trainer hollering in your ear.”

Kaylina frowned at the orange pill and thought of her mother’s reliance on tarmav weed to get out of bed in the mornings. She didn’t want to be like that. “I don’t want my mood altered.”

Frayvar would have laughed at her words and probably told her to chomp down the orange pills like bacon-wrapped dates. No, that wasn’t fair. Mom’s reliance on the weed concerned him too.

“Are you sure? I haven’t seen you without a glower.”

“You haven’t seen me at my best.” Kaylina pointed to her leg.

“Suppose that’s fair. You don’t have to take it, but keep the pouch in case you change your mind. I understand you didn’t volunteer for this.” His tone was sympathetic.

She decided she liked him. A lot more than the other rangers. Especially more than his captain.

“I didn’t,” she said.

“If you’re an anrokk, I understand why Targon chose you, but…” The doctor spread his hand. “It’s not an easy life.”

She eyed his scars. If even the healers got beat up here, she had no doubt of his statement.

“Do a lot of the rangers take the mood pills?” she asked.

“Some. Mostly it helps out the new recruits. The early months of training are hard.”

“Does Vlerion take anything?” Kaylina thought of those dangerous glints that came to his eyes and what might happen if he lost his temper.

“Not that I’m aware of. Not even pain medication when he’s injured. He says he doesn’t want anything altering his mental state.” The doctor shrugged. “You can ask him more about it yourself.” He pointed across the courtyard, past the taybarri stable to where Vlerion stood alone, his arms folded over his chest.

That dyspeptic expression was back on his face as he watched them. Had he been there all along?

Kaylina chewed down the dreadful pain medicine, then eyed the other. “Would the orange pill make it easier for me to bow and say yes, my lord?”

The doctor snorted. “Probably.”

Thinking again of her mother, she didn’t take it. Jaw set, she strode toward Vlerion.

Before she reached him, Captain Targon stepped out of the shadows, startling her.

“Good morning, my lord.” Kaylina made herself smile, but she doubted it reached her eyes.

Targon nodded at her. “Thank you for coming.”

“I assumed I didn’t have a choice.”

“Vlerion and I had a bet about that. I thought you’d run.”

Frayvar’s words echoed in her mind: We could stow away on a ship and go home.

“He didn’t?” Kaylina didn’t confess that she’d been tempted.

“Nope.” Targon held up a finger to Vlerion, who hadn’t moved but continued to watch them.

Targon turned his back toward Vlerion, as if he didn’t want his subordinate to hear his next words. Kaylina tensed.

“I’m not going to change my mind about having him train you, because he’s one of our best, and I think Crenoch is going to insist on you being his rider one day, but…” Targon eyed her. “I advise you to be respectful, mindful, and obedient to him.”

“I do love being obedient to men.”

His eyes closed to slits, and he gripped her arm tightly. It wasn’t quite painful, but it made her clench her jaw and want to jerk away.

“I suggest that, for your own safety, you are obedient to that man. However much it may cost your pride, do not argue with him or try to make him lose his temper.”

The various long looks that Targon and Vlerion had shared the night of her questioning came to mind. That awareness that they shared some secret. About that beast in the catacombs, she wagered.

“He’s actually much better at keeping his temper than most men, but you’ve a knack for irritating him.” The twist to Targon’s lips as he stared into her eyes made her believe he thought she irritated most people.

Kaylina resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at him. Funny how many rangers made her want to do that. “It’s my southern charm.”

“He says you call him a pirate.”

“Charmingly.”

“I’ll bet.”

“Do women actually pass the tests to become a ranger? I haven’t seen any here.” Kaylina waved around the compound.

“There are a few. The tests rely as much on agility, endurance, marksmanship, and riding ability as raw strength. They’re passable by those who train hard and have some gods-given aptitude.” Targon glanced at the sling on her belt. “I believe the need to sleep on the ground in mountains filled with man-eating beasts and man-slaying Kar’ruk are a deterrent to many of the fairer sex. At least among the aristocracy, from which the rangers have traditionally drawn, there are few women who’ve been eager to sign up.”

Kaylina had thought all of the rangers were nobles, but hadn’t Vlerion said Jankarr had a common heritage?

Targon looked past her shoulder toward the stable.

No fewer than five taybarri were gazing at them. Or… at her?

She rubbed her face, not wanting that many witnesses to whatever this training involved.

“You’ll be paid,” Targon said.

“Huh?”

“The stipend during training is small, but if you pass the tests to become a ranger, the pay is commensurate with the duties and dangers of the job.” He nodded to her, as if he were doing her a favor.

She wanted to earn her stipend from mead sales, but she made herself say, “Okay,” and add, “my lord,” when his eyebrows twitched.

After that, she hurried toward Vlerion before anyone else could waylay her.

“My taybarri has a hangover this morning,” he stated, his expression sour.

She’d been on the verge of offering him a polite, Good morning, my lord, but his words got her hackles up.

“Your taybarri shouldn’t have imbibed so much mead.”

In truth, Kaylina was surprised that the small amount had affected such a large beast. Had Crenoch gotten into a keg of alcohol, he might truly have been poisoned.

“He’s young and doesn’t know what’s good for him yet.” Vlerion leveled a flat glare not at her but toward the stable.

Crenoch—she was fairly certain that was he—swished his tail and turned his back.

“Do I get to ride him today?” That sounded like a far more appealing perk than Targon’s stipend.

“No.”

“Tomorrow?”

“No.”

“Ever?”

Vlerion looked like he badly wanted to say no again, but he sighed. “He’ll probably insist.”

Something to look forward to then.

“Normally, we would start off with strength and endurance training, but Doc Penderbrock said to give your leg more time to recover.”

“I like him.”

“We all do.”

“Because he gives out good drugs?”

“Among other reasons.” Vlerion looked down. “How is your leg?”

“If I say it aches horribly and green pus is constantly oozing from it, will you let me go back to the castle to start a new batch of mead?”

“You’re going to be a difficult student, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, but you’re going to be a loathsome teacher, so it’ll work out.”

“Or we’ll kill each other.” He smiled.

She didn’t. She had no doubt he could kill her but highly doubted the reverse would be true.

“Come.” Vlerion led her toward the far side of the courtyard where men grappled with each other in a sandy pit. “We’ll work on balance, and I’ll educate you on the various threats you’ll face as a ranger. Ten years ago, most of them came from our borders. These days, as you saw in the catacombs, we must also be prepared to respond to threats within our cities. Our forces are spread thin.”

“Is that why commoners, including snarky women from the far southern end of the kingdom, are being recruited?”

“You are a special case, but it is why commoners who’ve proven themselves loyal and exceptional have been allowed in, yes. It’s an opportunity for them too. If Jankarr, for example, survives his full twenty-five years and retires with honor, he’ll receive a parcel of land and a title.”

“The king is okay with turning commoners into nobles?”

“The program was his idea, back when he was a little more…” Vlerion waved his hand vaguely toward the sky.

“Little more what?” Kaylina hadn’t heard from the newspapers or gossip in the Spitting Gull that there was anything wrong with King Gavatorin, but the islands were far removed from the capital, and a lot of people didn’t care much about the king or the kingdom as a whole. The fierce patriotism present in the north wasn’t found as frequently in those parts of the nation more recently annexed or conquered.

“He’s getting older,” Vlerion said, then added in a quieter tone, “and less sharp.”

“That happens to people.”

Not her grandparents though. Thankfully, they were still in full command of their faculties. Mother, on the other hand… Well, the tarmav weed was her problem.

“Yes.”

Vlerion led her through a wide open-sky corridor toward another large courtyard. Barracks, an armory, and an eating hall surrounded it, all with windows looking out on arenas, a track, and stations filled with training equipment. A few men were using the various apparatuses.

Vlerion led Kaylina to an aboveground pool with a long log mounted on a spindle above it, the bark peeled away. “Remove your boots and whatever else you like.”

Whatever else she liked? In front of witnesses?

He tugged off his own boots, removed his socks, then pulled his black tunic over his head, tossing it onto a rack.

Kaylina stared at his lean ropy muscles, each one fully delineated, the dusting of red-brown hair on his chest doing nothing to soften his body. He looked a lot different from Domas—from most of the men back home that she’d seen shirtless. Of course she’d expected Vlerion to be fit, but even before he grabbed a staff and swung it in a few warm-up exercises, she was mesmerized. Scar tissue rose in several places, wounds that, like the ones on his head, had come from claws or fangs rather than blades. How many great beasts had he battled in his life? He wasn’t that much older than she.

“You’ll get wet,” Vlerion told her, catching her looking.

“What?” she blurted, jerking her gaze away.

“From the pool.”

“Oh.”

She shook her head. The last thing she needed was for him to believe she was into him.

Fortunately, he didn’t comment on her gawking.

“We usually remove all our clothing as practice for enduring the cold,” Vlerion said, “but I’m told it’s not polite to walk naked among women.”

Kaylina refrained from replying that she wouldn’t mind and would be curious to see the rest of him—comments like that couldn’t possibly be considered respectful to lords.

“That’s right,” was what she said and took off her sling and knife before removing her boots.

Staff in hand, Vlerion hopped onto a stump acting as a stair step and padded barefoot onto the log. It wobbled, turning left and right on the spindle, but only a little. His steps barely stirred it.

Why did Kaylina have a feeling it would rotate violently and pitch her into the water?

“Do I get a staff for balance?” She eyed the rack of them.

“They’re not for balance. They’re for striking your opponent. It’s a contest to improve your balance and teach you how to keep your composure when you’re in a battle.”

“If we’re going to battle each other, I absolutely need a staff.”

Vlerion smiled slightly and held his staff out horizontally. In offering?

Glad there weren’t many witnesses around, Kaylina climbed onto the stump and then more carefully the log. With its bark peeled, the wood had little texture and nothing to grip with her toes.

The log wobbled, affecting Vlerion as well as Kaylina, but he adjusted easily to the motion. She flailed, causing it to spin in earnest. His expression never changed as his feet shifted, and he took small steps to stay on top as it rotated. His upper body barely moved. She ended up sideways, flailing harder and feeling like a spectacle.

Vlerion sank low, shifting his weight downward, and the log slowed to a stop. At least she hadn’t fallen in. He could as easily have made it spin faster, she realized. Or used his weight to send it rotating in the opposite direction. Maybe he would once they started their “battle.”

She crept carefully toward him and accepted the staff. “I get to try to hit you?”

“If you can.”

“It doesn’t seem right to attack an unarmed man.”

“I am not without my means.”

Yeah, with those muscles, he could heft her over his head and throw her into the water—or over the courtyard wall.

“What do I get if I knock you into the pool?” Kaylina decided that swinging the staff like a club would cause her to lose her balance. Instead, she gripped it in both hands, holding it close to her body and pointing one end toward him. Thrusting would be less likely to upset her balance.

“If you remain on the log for five minutes, I will tell ten influential citizens about your meadery and suggest they might enjoy the fare.”

Great, he knew how to manipulate her. Not that she was a hard person to read. During that drugged interrogation, she’d spewed everything not only about her dreams but her need to prove herself to her family.

“Ten influential citizens and the king,” Kaylina countered, testing how fast and hard she could thrust without making the log rotate.

“The queen is the connoisseur of fine food,” he said.

Ah, that was right. Kaylina had read the culture column the queen wrote for the largest kingdom newspaper. It was one of the reasons she’d chosen Port Jirador for her new business.

“Okay, tell her about my meadery. And that our beverages are fit for royalty.”

“I already know they are.”

“Oh?” She inched closer to him with the staff. “You didn’t get a chance to try any, did you?”

“Crenoch did.”

“And his taste is impeccable?” The image of Crenoch’s huge tongue dipping into a goblet came to mind. Hopefully, Vlerion wouldn’t tell the queen that taybarri lips had been all over the drinkware at the castle.

“His taste is highly questionable, but he is what humans would call a prince. His sire and dam are leaders among the taybarri.”

“Well, there you go. You can honestly say that royalty loves my mead.”

“Yes. Should you last five minutes.”

“We’re already down to three, aren’t we? Maybe four since I got up here.”

“The timer begins when you attack.”

“Damn, I thought I just had to keep you chatting.” Kaylina didn’t see a timer at all.

“No.” Vlerion flicked his fingers in invitation.

She eased closer, then thrust the staff toward his groin. Maybe not a fair target, but it would be harder for him to dodge his midsection out of the way than his head or torso. He also might want to protect that area assiduously. Most men did.

He didn’t dodge, merely sweeping his hand in to catch the staff and keep it from connecting. He tugged on it, almost pulling her off balance.

Though tempted to let go of it, she didn’t. She did wobble and had to take several fast sideways steps as the log shifted. Vlerion matched the movements, staying on without trouble. He could have ripped the staff out of her hands, but he let her regain her balance and back up.

The next time, she thrust faster, first feinting for his head before committing to another groin attack. He must have been able to tell the feint wasn’t a threat, because he didn’t lift a hand to block it, simply grabbing the thrust toward his midsection again.

“I’m fortunate your sling didn’t target my balls,” Vlerion said.

“Your back was to me when I fired.”

“If I’d been turned toward you?”

“Any target is fair game when someone is after my brother.”

“I see.”

Kaylina set up again, feinting twice this time, then lunging for his abdomen. He shifted to the side, using his open palm to block and deflect the staff, then wrapping his grip around it. He yanked the staff—and her—toward him, and she stumbled into him. She might as well have rammed against a stone pillar. He didn’t move, and she bounced back, losing her balance and tilting toward the water. She tried to grab him and take him in with her, but he glided back out of reach.

With a great splash, cold water enveloped her as she landed butt-first. At least there weren’t any sharks in the pool.

“Whether you’re attacking or defending, keep your knees bent and the core of your weight low.” Vlerion touched his abdomen and demonstrated by crouching. “It’ll be easier to keep your balance that way. When you’re on a taybarri, you can only move your top half, but you’ll find that you can still sink yourself low if someone is swinging at you with an axe. Since the taybarri won’t abide stirrups, saddles, and bits, you can’t rise up and move about as much as you can on a horse.”

Kaylina wiped water out of her eyes and waded toward the side. “They sound uppity.”

“What else would you expect from royalty?”

“They’re not all from that same sire and dam, are they?”

“No, but they all think highly of themselves.”

Kaylina pulled herself out, water sloughing from her soaked clothes, and padded back onto the log. She wanted another crack at Vlerion. Too bad her five minutes had probably started over.

Once more, he held the staff out horizontally for her. Her splash had gotten him wet. As she eased across the log, she decided one wasn’t supposed to admire the damp, gleaming muscles of one’s opponent.

This time, she used her weight to shift the log before attacking. She had to think of ways to distract him if she wanted to catch him off balance.

Vlerion moved his feet without glancing down, stopping her spin and rotating it in the other direction. Since he weighed more, he could take control of the log anytime. Watching her, he rotated it faster.

She crouched lower, moving with the spin and balancing effectively for a time, but as soon as she attacked again, he caught the staff and pulled her. She let go of it, hoping she wouldn’t go in again, but he shifted the weapon in his grip and thrust it at her.

She bent her top half, trying to dodge, but the tip clipped her. This time, she landed on her butt on the log before bouncing into the water. That one hurt more than her pride.

“Never relinquish your weapon,” Vlerion said when she came up, pushing hair out of her face. “And be mindful that committing to an attack always has the consequence of opening your defenses. You can’t strike at another without making yourself vulnerable.”

Kaylina should have offered an obedient, yes, my lord, as she waded to the side again, but what came out was, “I don’t want to strike at anyone. I’m a crafter, not a fighter. I read about adventures; I don’t go on them.”

“Aren’t you on an adventure now?”

“To craft. Fine alcoholic beverages. Also to hold my brother’s groceries at the market. He’s not a fighter either. It’s not fair to—” As she heaved herself out of the water, she glimpsed several young men in ranger blacks watching from a dozen yards away, and she clamped her mouth shut.

They smiled as she climbed onto the log again. At first, Kaylina thought they might be sympathetic smiles, since they must have undergone the same training, and maybe a couple of them were, but one man eyed her chest and elbowed his comrade.

“Nice to have some female rangers-in-training again.”

“Because the view is better?”

“Oh yeah.”

Kaylina might not have taken off her shirt, but when she glanced down, she realized having her wet clothes plastered to her body didn’t leave a lot to the imagination. Cheeks hot, she crept toward Vlerion again.

He waited in the same pose with the staff out in offering, but his head had turned toward their observers. No, her observers. She might enjoy looking at Vlerion shirtless, but the male rangers were more interested in ogling her. Now that one had drawn the attention of the others, they were all checking her out.

“You will return to your duties,” Vlerion told them coolly.

“Yes, my lord,” they said as one and trotted off, though not without a couple of backward glances.

The one who’d spoken first licked his lips and winked at Kaylina, as if to promise he would meet her alone later.

“I prefer the attention of the taybarri,” she muttered to herself, giving the ranger a rude gesture to help him along his way.

Vlerion returned his gaze to her—to her face—and nodded for her to take the staff. Even though he irked her, she wouldn’t have minded as much if he’d eyed her chest. But he didn’t even want to be there training her.

Kaylina accepted the staff and backed up to reconsider her strategy. If she swung for his legs, he might have a harder time grabbing it out of midair.

“Targon wants you moved into the barracks here,” Vlerion said.

An alarm bell clanged in her mind.

“I can’t abandon my brother,” she blurted.

“I told him it would be unwise.” Vlerion glanced in the direction the men had gone. “For numerous reasons.”

Even though she knew he was more concerned about her being pestered for sex if she slept here, she knew how to handle unwanted advances from men. The thought of Frayvar having to deal with the cursed castle alone was what made her shake her head.

“My brother would sleep in the courtyard and freeze if I wasn’t there. He’s scared of that place.” Kaylina was too, but the castle hadn’t killed them yet, and the nightmares had grown less frequent, so she’d grown less uneasy about being there. She did, however, worry that the curse’s decision to leave them alone might change if rangers kept coming by. “Besides, it’s my fault he’s here. I can’t let anything happen to him.”

Vlerion’s expression never changed. She might as well have been complaining to a stone wall.

Frustrated, even though it sounded like Vlerion might have talked his boss out of forcing her to stay here, Kaylina lunged in, thrusting at his front leg.

He lifted it, balancing on his back leg, and kicked her staff aside. Though her arms were knocked out wide with it, she held onto it and kept her balance. She thrust again, feinting and swinging, trying anything she could think of to catch Vlerion by surprise.

The log spun under her, but she managed to stay upright as she attacked. Unfortunately, she didn’t manage to connect.

Her last thrust was high enough that Vlerion could grip the staff, and he did so at the same time as he shifted his weight, setting the log to spinning. Fast.

Cursing, she struggled to keep up, moving her feet rapidly to stay vertical, but he shifted his weight again, altering the spin so abruptly that she couldn’t adjust in time. Once more, she pitched into the water. Her leg caught the log as she fell, and agony lanced up from her wounds. She barely kept from screaming.

“In battle, it is natural for instincts to take over, for rational thought to be elusive. We will train you such that many defenses and attacks become automatic, but it is also important that you keep your temper, that you don’t allow frustration or anger to make your self-control evaporate.”

“Screw you, asshole,” Kaylina snarled, wincing as she waded for the edge again.

With her back to him, she sensed rather than saw Vlerion moving. He trotted off the log and sprang to the ground to land near her.

She tensed, expecting retribution for her disrespect, for not making it, Screw you, my lord.

But he didn’t look mad or even annoyed. He reached for a towel on the rack and handed it to her. “We will move on to another exercise.”

“Good,” she said, though she didn’t know if it was. With the sun barely up, there had to be countless more training torture sessions in store for her.

As she wiped her face with the towel, she glimpsed someone in the passageway again, a man like the others, peeking out from around the corner.

Vlerion stepped closer to her and glared at the young ranger. He jerked back out of sight.

At least while Kaylina was training with him, she shouldn’t have to worry about the untoward advances she’d been thinking of.

He rested a hand on her shoulder. “Family is important. I understand. We all do.”

The gentleness of his touch and his soft tone sanded her irritation down, and she caught herself leaning toward him.

He froze, so maybe that wasn’t the right move. When she glanced up, he was looking toward her chest. Between the cold water and the chilly air, her nipples were popping through the wet shirt. No wonder she had gawkers.

She didn’t want the attention of the others, and she shouldn’t have wanted Vlerion’s attention, but a weird flush went through her, and she was tempted to turn toward him so he could see… whatever he wished.

Vlerion shifted his gaze away as he took the towel from her to drape it around her shoulders and cover her chest. Well, wasn’t that noble?

She told herself not to be disappointed. What did she think would happen between them, anyway?

“I lost my brother when I was younger,” Vlerion said quietly, and she forgot thoughts of wet shirts and being ogled. “It’s good that you want to look out for yours. I wasn’t there for mine when he passed, and I wish I could have been. That I could have stopped it.”

“I’m sorry.” Kaylina didn’t know why he was opening up to her, but it warmed her that he felt he could, and she regretted cursing him. “Was he younger?”

“Older. Before I had the notion, he defied our parents’ wishes and became a ranger.”

“That’s how he was killed? In the line of duty?”

“It was an accident, but it wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t been here.” His vague wave could have indicated the ranger headquarters or the city as a whole. His face grew closed, and she had a feeling he wouldn’t go into more details if she pressed.

“I’m sorry,” she said again and rested her hand on his bare chest. “It must have been hard for you to lose him.”

“Yes.” Vlerion looked down at her hand but didn’t remove it or suggest she should. His gaze shifted to her face, his eyes heated.

The temptation to let her fingers trace the hard lines of his pectorals swept over her. Would he let her? Did he want her to?

Movement in the passageway pulled their gazes from each other. It wasn’t the horny young men this time but a woman of about thirty walking beside Captain Targon.

Vlerion stepped away from Kaylina, and her hand dropped. Targon smirked as he eyed Kaylina, and she pulled the towel tighter around herself.

The woman had lush brown hair, voluptuous lips, and wore a silk dress and golden necklace under a fur-lined jacket. A noble? Surely not a ranger.

The pair walked toward them, and Kaylina, dripping water onto the pavers, felt scruffy with her hair plastered to her neck. The woman looked at Vlerion and ignored Kaylina except to give her a once over and purse disapproving lips.

“I need to speak with you, Vlerion.” She didn’t comment on Kaylina or her damp attire.

“I assumed,” he said. “Trouble at home?”

“Most of the family’s troubles are centered around you.”

“That sounds like a no. I’ll stand relieved.”

“It’s nothing too worrisome, but we need to talk.” The woman gave Kaylina another look of disapproval before scrutinizing Vlerion.

His face was masked, and if he gave anything away, Kaylina couldn’t tell.

Vlerion nodded at Targon, then walked off with the woman without explaining who she was. Another noble who’d built forts with Vlerion in their youth and now thought he was a sexy hunk?

“If my instructor is busy, I can go home,” Kaylina told Targon.

He snorted. “Have no fear. We’ve many capable rangers who can take over for the morning.”

“Lucky me.”

With her leg throbbing, Kaylina followed the captain off to whatever torture and humiliation was next on the list. She couldn’t help but look back toward where Vlerion and the woman had stopped, their heads bowed in conversation. She touched his arm and pointed at Kaylina.

They were talking about her? Kaylina clenched her jaw.

Neither looked in her direction. Vlerion shook his head at whatever the woman said. She frowned at him. He shook his head again.

“This way, recruit.” Targon gripped Kaylina’s arm to get her moving again, determined to lead her away.

“Lucky me,” she repeated softly.