I swung my sword with everything I had, but Kyren dodged effortlessly, his smirk never fading.
"Too slow, little rose."
I gritted my teeth. How was he not even breaking a sweat? I, on the other hand, was sweating through my dress like a kitchen maid in mid-summer. The sun was unrelenting, and so was Kyren's maddening arrogance.
"I hate you," I muttered, blocking another attack.
"You wound me." He parried lazily, looking more entertained than anything else.
I took a step back, trying to catch my breath. My arms ached, my legs burned, and Kyren—the infuriating beast—looked like he could do this all day.
I glared at him. "Aren't you supposed to be training me?"
He tilted his head. "I am."
I pointed at him with my sword. "No, you're bullying me."
Kyren chuckled, rolling his shoulders. "If this is bullying, you wouldn't last a second on a battlefield."
I narrowed my eyes. Oh, he wanted to play games? Fine.
Straightening, I dropped my sword dramatically and placed a hand over my heart. "Oh, Duke Kyren Fernandez, you wound me so! How will I ever survive under such cruelty?"
A few of the gathered soldiers snickered, trying (and failing) to hide their amusement.
Kyren arched a brow. "Mocking me won't get you anywhere, little rose."
I took a slow step closer, tilting my head in mock innocence. "Are you sure? Because it seems to be working just fine."
Kyren's smirk faltered for half a second—just half a second—before he recovered.
And then, to my absolute horror, he stepped even closer.
"Careful, Vidalia," he murmured, his voice dropping to a dangerously smooth tone. "Teasing me is far more dangerous than fighting me."
I swallowed. Oh.
The air suddenly felt warmer, and not because of the sun. Curse this man and his ability to turn the tables so easily.
I refused to back down.
I lifted my chin. "Maybe I like danger."
His gaze darkened slightly, but before he could retort, someone cleared their throat loudly.
We both turned to see Mark, Kyren's advisor, watching us with open amusement.
"Apologies for interrupting your... romantic sparring," Mark said, looking far too entertained.
"It was not romantic," I snapped.
Kyren smirked. "Wasn't it?"
I kicked his shin.
Hard.
Kyren let out a low grunt, but his smirk never wavered. If anything, he looked even more amused.
"You fight dirty," he mused.
I huffed, crossing my arms. "You should have expected that."
Mark chuckled. "If you two are done flirting—"
I picked up my sword and pointed it at Mark. "You're next."
Mark held up his hands in surrender. "I take it back. Please, continue whatever this is."
Kyren chuckled, grabbing my wrist and pulling my sword down. "Enough for today."
I yanked my arm away, scowling. "Afraid of losing?"
His gaze met mine, unreadable. "Not at all. I just think you're far more entertaining when you're angry."
I exhaled sharply through my nose. This man was insufferable.
I turned on my heel and stormed off, ignoring the laughter behind me.
One thing was certain—this arranged marriage was going to test every last ounce of my patience.