Alone in the garden, Adaline took a deep breath and started her form. Side-kick low, side-kick high, and then she shifted into a wide stance with a knifehand strike, followed by three rapid palm-heel strikes to her imaginary opponent. She straightened, sliding her right foot forward as she kicked with her left, bringing her hand down like a hammer as she brought her left foot back to the ground. Rotating one hundred and eighty degrees, she swung her right leg up into an arc and then brought it forcefully down like an ax as she exhaled. A week of practicing her forms was driving her crazy. She wanted to spar but refused to be in the same company as her guard. At least not willingly.

The sudden fall of spring raindrops kissed her hot cheeks, and Adaline turned her face to the sky. She unsheathed her sword and called, “Come out now, Evzan. I know you’re there.”

“I wasn’t trying to hide, Princess. Just giving you a little space.”

Her anger at his betrayal sparked anew, and she spun, holding her weapon at the ready. Still no Evzan. Blast. Where is he?

As if the overcast sky were Evzan’s ally, the light rain opened into a torrential downpour, covering the garden in a murky haze. Adaline could just make out the trellises, raised beds, and stone walls, but no Evzan. She knew he wasn’t far away.

Within seconds, Adaline’s tunic and fitted trousers, along with her flaxen-blond hair, plastered to her body. “Stop playing games, and reveal yourself.”

His low chuckle filtered through the rain. “How do you intend to defend yourself if you can’t even locate your opponent?”

Of course he wouldn’t call a halt. Evzan was not only a sadist, but he was also masochistic.

“No one with any sense would be out in this weather,” she called to him.

“No one with any sense would attack you while I’m your guard. You’re not training to fight people with sense, Adaline. You’re training to fight a waghalter.”

Evzan sprang from atop a trellis to land in front of her. He loomed over her, moving far too quickly to avoid, but she parried and dodged away from the force of his strikes. He advanced, and the ring of their steel weapons was louder than the crescendo of the rain. Water cascaded down his face, dripping from his nose and chin, his hair darkening with the moisture.

Adaline leaned back, looking up into his feral eyes, and her heart jumped to a staccato rhythm of panic. When he appeared like this, Evzan seemed almost inhuman. And while his family name, Shulz, was well-respected, Adaline didn’t know anything else about them.

“You’re avoiding me,” he said as he held out his sword to the side in a signal that the fight was over. It wasn’t an accusation, merely a statement of fact. He smiled, but it was neither kind nor comforting.

Denial would be pointless. “You’re a difficult person to avoid.” She sheathed her sword and walked around him. “But I’ll continue to do my best.”

He caught up with her in less than three steps. “Avoiding me is stupid,” he said, walking beside her. “First, it took me less than five minutes to track you down. But for those few minutes, you’re vulnerable. Second, it’s my job to protect you, a job your father gave me. Dodging me is dodging him. And third, all you’re doing when you run off is making small windows of opportunity for assailants to attack and kill you.”

“You already said that,” she snapped. “And assailants? Really?” Throwing her hands into the air, she reeled on him, heart pounding with fury. “What assailants are you worried about, Evzan? I’m in my garden, in my castle, in my father’s country. In fact, I’m here because you made me stay. I don’t know how I could be any safer. Unless you are lying about the hooded man in the garden being nonexistent or dead.”

He wiped his wet hair back and narrowed his eyes. “Listen, Princess. I don’t lie. If you want to quit training, that’s up to you. But you’re just barely touching the tip of the blade of what you’ll need to be a fighter. Either way, it’s your choice. However, when it comes to your safety, there is no compromise; you will listen to me because I answer not only to your father, but also my oath, in that regard. Not to you.”

“Understood,” Adaline said, seething. She clenched her jaw and balled her fists, but even knowing her behavior was irrational, she was livid with him. With a shake of her head, the princess stomped out of the garden. Stepping into the hothouse, Adaline grimaced. Her soggy tunic and pants clung to her, cold and heavy against her thin frame. Her leather boots were soaked, and each step squished, leaving a little pool of water behind.

Ringing out her hair, Adaline headed for the nearest bridge over the winding stream but maliciously snapped, “Oh, I still plan to train, Evzan. Just not with you.”

As she stepped over the first bridge, she felt his warm, calloused hand at her elbow.

“Adaline,” he said, his voice rough. “Please. Stop for a minute, and talk with me.”

She halted but refused to meet his gaze. “What?”

“You have a natural aptitude for swordsmanship and weapons, but watching soldiers train and having a trainer are two very different things.” He waited a moment before continuing, still standing behind her. “You’ll never excel if all you do is watch and imitate others.”

True, she thought and pursed her lips. She couldn’t deny his statement without sounding like a fool.

“No one paid me to spend hours correcting your form and teaching you to block, strike, or parry,” he continued. “It’s wrong to refuse you, not only because you’re a princess but because you want to learn. Or did I judge the situation incorrectly?” He crossed his arms, his corded muscles flexing over his wet tunic.

Adaline’s gaze dipped to his chest where his white shirt clung to his sculpted form, the ridges of muscle visible under the sodden fabric. She swallowed and forced her attention up to his face.

Evzan was the type of handsome that made her stomach flip and her mouth go dry. Up until now, she’d only been interested in his skill and willingness to train her. But something of Mari’s words sparked a new awareness in Adaline. You’ll never be queen, so maybe you could marry for love.

Obviously, she couldn’t even look at his face without the strange thoughts assailing her. Adaline blushed, her gaze seeking refuge on the empty pathway until she realized she was giving him too much power over her. She pushed away the odd fascination and forced herself to look back at Evzan, only to meet his disapproving scowl.

“If you’re not careful, your stubbornness and pride will get you killed,” Evzan said, his golden features darkening. “You need someone to keep you progressing.”

“Stubbornness and pride? Progression? Look who’s talking.” His hypocrisy did a fantastic job of banishing her strange thoughts of him.

“Really? It’s been how long? A week?” he asked. “Already your strikes are losing their form.”

“My strikes are powerful and direct, flawless.” Just as he’d taught her. She straightened to her full height and glared at him. “They are not losing their form.”

“Within a month, you’ll lose all of the progress I’ve made with you.”

The progress he’d made with her? She glared at the arrogant guard, clenching her teeth with frustration. “Are you in earnest?” When he said nothing, she continued, “You’re absurd.”

He met her glare with one of his own. “I beg your pardon. I was, perhaps, too generous with my estimation; I’m not sure you’ve retained anything I’ve taught you.”

Adaline’s rage boiled over, and she punched at Evzan, aiming for his solar plexus.

The guard didn’t even flinch as he swept his forearm in front of his body and smacked her strike away.

Humiliation stained her cheeks, and she narrowed her eyes. Why did she let him get to her? She was acting like a petulant child, not a princess of Cervene. Rubbing her arm, she grumbled, “I apologize. That was rude.”

Evzan’s smirk disappeared. He raised his eyebrows and with mock solemnity said, “I should be apologizing to you. Either I’ve been a terrible teacher, or you haven’t retained a single thing I’ve taught you. I was clearly mistaken when I said you had an aptitude for battle; perhaps, you should take up crochet, Princess.”

How dare he? She widened her stance, her hands clenched once again, and snarled, “If I take up crocheting, will you stop stalking me?”

“It is my job to stalk you—so even if you commanded me to stop, I wouldn’t.” He mirrored her pose but with a broader stance.

“You’re unbelievable,” she snapped.

Evzan heaved a sigh and shook his head. “I’m tired of this fight between us. I’m tired of you acting like a child; I was just following orders to protect you. Please, get over your imagined offense, and let things return to normal between us.”

“Your audacity is limitless. Imagined offense? My parents made me stay home while the rest of the family went to a party, and you encouraged them to exclude me.” Perhaps he didn’t know how much that exclusion hurt; maybe he didn't understand how much being included would’ve meant. “If you’re tired of how I’m acting, then go. I’m tired of being in a cage. Even a beautiful cage is still a cage.” She threw her hands out, gesturing to the pavilion. “When you said you’d train me, I’d hoped this would be something of my own, a bit of freedom. But you act like I’m something to control. I don’t need or want someone else to control my life; I already have plenty of people telling me what to do, Evzan.”

He clenched his jaw, and several moments of silence passed. His expression darkened, and then he said, “I hope you never have to learn how good you’ve had it, Princess.”

His insinuation, that she was ungrateful and spoiled, was another blow. She stared up at him, her mouth agape, but before she could form a response, he closed the distance between them.

“What’s the matter, Adaline? Is that the first time anyone’s dared to tell you the truth?” He stared down at her, his eyes bright with emotion. “It must be such an awful cage to have everyone telling you exactly what you want to hear all day, every day.”

He was entirely too close, so close she could feel his body heat through the space between them. Her heart fluttered, and she cursed its betrayal of her sensibilities. She pushed him, uselessly, and then took a step back, snapping, “Like anyone ever criticizes you, Evzan. You don’t know what it’s like.”

He took another step toward her, and she held up her hands to stop him. The air charged, the energy drawing them together, and Adaline stammered, “Don’t come any closer.” She pressed her fingers into his wet shirt and blinked, startled with what little space there was separating them. When she spoke next, her voice was barely a whisper. “I don’t pretend I’m perfect, and I don’t only have people tell me what I want to hear.” She glanced up through her lashes at him. “You, of all people, should know. And I’m not expecting you to make anything easy for me, but . . . You don’t have to be cruel either.” She dropped her gaze, her heart heavy with hurt, and blinked back tears. “I shouldn’t have bothered to tell you how I feel. You don’t get paid to care.”

“I’m not dismissing your emotions,” he said, his voice husky and thick. He didn’t move, but somehow, even with her hands between them, the distance shrank. “I just think some self-reflection is in order.” He brought up his hands to grip her upper arms. “I only want the best for you, Princess.”

Desire spread through her chest and down into her belly, the sensation both startling and unfamiliar. Adaline stepped back, shocked with her vacillating feelings for her intense guard. Her mouth dried, and she felt the urge to run. “I believe you’re right; we should take some time to reflect. And”—her mind grasped for something, some way to escape—“maybe I’ll hire a different fighting instructor.”

“He won’t be as good as me,” Evzan said, frowning.

She laughed. He was right; the other soldiers had said as much, even many of the generals, but Adaline wasn’t about to feed his ego. “Thank you, Evzan, for modeling such astounding humility.”

Despite the warm air, Adaline shivered as Evzan’s dark gaze traveled down her thin frame.

“It’s not ego if it’s true.” He shook his head and then met her gaze. His eyes flashed fire, and he said, “I’ll give you the rest of the day to feel sorry for yourself. I expect you ready for training at the usual hour tomorrow morning.”

“No.” She crossed her arms over her chest. Evzan was playing games with her, but with no grasp on the rules, she was finished competing. “I made plans to visit the Abbess tomorrow. While you refuse to deal with that strange attack, I am determined to figure out what the Celestial Sister’s warning meant. At this point, do the job my father pays you to, but aside from that, leave me alone. Forget the training.”

The moment the words left her mouth, an invisible fist squeezed her insides, and she waited with baited breath, hoping he would defy her.

Evzan stared into her eyes with an unfathomable expression on his handsome face and said, “I’m sorry, Princess. I’ll not leave you alone until I know you’re safe. That is my job.”

A cry rose from deep within the castle, a distinctive cacophony of women wailing and men shouting, interrupting their argument. A fraction of a second later, the bells of the Celestial Sisters’ cathedral tolled.

Adaline swallowed. Looking toward the keep’s stone spires, she counted. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. And then no more.

Her stomach turned, her mind supplying the interpretation of the bells’ chimes. Mourning. The tolls of a royal death.