“Ah. Alana, Lou. This way.”

The moment we arrive, Kierra beckons us away from the gathering group of initiates to a part of the field where a plush chair is seated before a square carved into the dirt. The square is divided into smaller squares, four by four, with each one numbered. What kind of monstrous exercise is she planning now?

“Here, sit down.” Hmph. You want me to lower my guard with comfort. I’ve fallen for that trick before. “Alana, you stand in the middle of the square. The rules are very simple. Lou, you pick a limb, then a number to place it. Alana, you have to find a pose where you can follow the direction without disobeying any previous directions and hold the stretch for thirty seconds. Rinse and repeat. Have fun.”

“Wait!” I give her a narrowed-eyed look. She was honestly about to walk off right now. Is she serious? “I…just have to sit here?”

She gives me a soft smile, a saint of kindness. “You relax. Yesterday was…quite an ordeal.”

I shiver, as she brings back the memories. “But I’ve been healed though?”

“It’s still a bit much for the mind to digest. Don’t worry. I’ll be back to pushing you tomorrow. Maybe in a few new ways.” Her smile shifts to her usual smirk before she walks off with a little extra swing to her hips. Eyes peeled to her backside, my mind goes down a strange path as it tries to puzzle out what she meant by that last comment. Surely, she doesn’t plan on…no, no. Oh, saints protect me!

In my lap, Bell does another round of happy squirming, no doubt enjoying the dark…and delicious places my wife’s words just took me. I squeeze her little harder. This is all your fault, you little—

“Eh-hem.” I look up to Alana. “Are we going to start? Teacher seems to be in a forgiving mood but I rather not push it.”

“Uh, right. I guess…right hand, 3?”

Alana crouches down to fulfill the direction. I wait thirty seconds before giving another one. After a few minutes, she is sweating and struggling to hold each new pose, cursing at the ways she’s being forced to contort. “I feel bad for you,” she huffs, try to shake off the strands of hair clinging to her sweaty brow.

“Why?” I chuckle. “You’re the one sweating. Left foot, 5.”

She lets out a little growl of frustration but manages it. “Exactly. She gave you a pass on this torture. That means, whatever you went through yesterday must have been a thousand times worse. My sympathies.”

I wince, face flushing. “It wasn’t that bad…”

“Really? Then I might consider getting a free pass too.”

Oh, you have no idea what you’re saying. Bell coos in my lap, squirming with a little more energy to show her willingness. Nuh-uh. If anyone is doing that, it’s me. Hands off, you greedy imp.

[We could share the knight, Master Lou.]

Ugh. That’s more tempting than I want to admit…but no. Keep your seductions away from her. I can have a female friend without trying to get her into bed. I’m sure of it.

Really.

“You don’t want to do that, Alana. Trust me.”

“You’re making me really curious about it. Normally, you’re happy to brag about anything and everything that elf puts you through. In training and out.”

“That’s because you’re a closet pervert. Right hand, 11.”

She grunts with effort as she moves. “I keep telling you I don’t want to know!”

“You’re asking about it right now.”

“…then it wasn’t training?”

Crap. She talked me in a circle. My face flushes hotter as she gives me a searching look. “It was training! Definitely training!”

“…right.”

“Anyway, about yesterday!” I say quickly, desperate to change the subject. “You know, with our encounter of the royal kind.”

“Ah, him. Told you nothing good would come with mixing with nobles. Wish I could have at least finished my lunch.”

“Yeah, and people say I have no manners. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about him, would you?”

“Why would I? I know the king has three sons and two daughters. That’s the extent of my knowledge on the royal family.”

I sigh heavily. “I suppose I can’t be upset.” I didn’t even know that much. “Just thought I’d take my chances, what with your last name. Right foot, 10.” Last name means noble lineage of some kind. Come to think of it, I’ve never asked about her family. She doesn’t seem close to them so it never seemed important.

My thought is reinforced by her frown. “James may be a ducal household but…I’m a bastard, Lou. A child birthed from one of the whores my father slept around with outside of marriage. Only good to be a servant to my legitimate siblings despite having the same blood. My father only took notice of me when they discovered my light affinity and I only received his last name before being accepted to the Grand Hall, with the unspoken promise to serve as his sword. I am by no means a proper noble.”

“Ah.” Ducal house!? Jeez, I’ve been prancing around with the daughter of a duke this whole time without knowing it. That’s only one step away from royalty. Bastard or not, she can bludgeon almost everyone here with her bloodline.

Good job coming out as someone decent, Alana. All the odds were stacked against you. “Left foot, 4.”

“Devil. I pour my heart out to you and you reply with treachery.”

“Eh, well, you already have my promise, right?” Though I’m still not sure what I promised her. It was made with some very broad strokes. “That should say enough.”

She smiles despite her exertion. “That it does.”