After Tempest’s smashing success at finding me a magic tutor, finding a swordsmanship teacher was proving far more difficult. In Tempest’s words, everyone he could find was either a self-aggrandizing twit, or *dramatic pause* untrustworthy. After a fruitless week of interviewing a series of swordmaster wannabes, he gave up on finding me a private tutor.

  I looked out my coach window, too nervous to take in the view as we pulled around the rear of the Knights’ headquarters on the palace grounds. The end of my long braid was starting to fray from worrying at it.

  Tucked behind the ancient two-story stone building was the knighthood’s outdoor training field — my destination for today. Beyond it stretched a stable, and a riding arena. The palace’s spires rose majestically in the distance, just visible above the small wood that hid the complex from the palace.

  This was a terrible idea.

  I hadn’t even stepped out of the coach, and already I could see people glaring in my direction. My first impression couldn’t have been worse. Nepotism seemed to be just as popular here as it had been back in my old world.

  My coachman stepped down, opened the door for me, and bowed.

  There was a harsh bark of laughter nearby.

  I winced. I was wrong — it could get worse after all.

  With a resigned sigh, I stepped down from the coach. A group of trainees in light armour were loitering nearby, shooting me the occasional glare as they whispered among themselves.

  One of them looked me up and down, sneering at my outfit. My heart sank as I ran a self-conscious hand down my soft, silky sleeve.

  I’d thought that the plain silk shirt, tight-fitting corset vest with long tails, and low-heeled boots that Louise had picked out would be perfect for a combat-oriented class — close-fitting, something I could move in. I’d even limited my jewelry to a cameo pinning my cravat and amethyst stud earrings. But looking around, it was obvious just how out of place I was.

  In the short time I’d already attracted plenty of resentful and disdainful stares.

  One thing I’d failed to spot was a person with bright red hair. Autumn wasn’t here. I wasn’t sure if I should be relieved or disappointed.

  I had yet to meet my middle brother. He’d been accepted into the knighthood after graduating last year, and moved directly from the Academy dorms into the chapter house. According to Tempest, he’d cut all ties with House Dusk.

  I wasn’t surprised. After everything he’d endured, I would have done the same.

  The coach door slammed behind me, making me jump. One of the trainees sniggered.

  My face burned. If I ran for it, I could be back on the coach and on my way home before anyone even noticed I was gone.

  A sharp whistle cut the air. “Form up!”

  The trainees snapped to attention and ran for the middle of the field, where they quickly organized themselves into a straight line.

  Shit. Too late.

  I hesitated for a moment, shifting anxiously from foot to foot before I ran after them.

  The trainee at the far end glared at me with a disgusted twist of his lip as I stopped beside him. I did my best to mimic his posture, and turned my attention to the pair of knights waiting in the middle of the open training area.

  The younger knight, a handsome, muscular guy with bright red hair and cinnamon eyes, looked in my direction with a dark scowl.

  My heart sank. I looked away quickly, scuffing the dirt with my boot. Autumn. He did not look happy to see me. Today was going to be the worst day ever.

  “Lord Dusk,” a gravelly voice announced. “So glad you could join us. Step forward.”

  They didn’t sound glad.

  I stepped forward smartly. The second knight, an older woman with grey hair and a slight limp, strolled over and stopped in front of me. Her smile didn’t look glad either.

  A bead of nervous sweat rolled down my spine.

  She tilted her head towards Autumn, her eyes never leaving me. “Warm ups,” she ordered over her shoulder. “Three laps, then pair them up and run drills. Not you, Lord Dusk,” she stopped me as I turned to follow the others. “I want to see what you’re made of.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  Without warning, she grabbed my shirt collar and yanked me sideways, deftly kicking my supporting foot out from under me. She moved so fast, I didn’t have time to react.

  I hit the ground hard, the breath knocked out of me. My mind went blank — every self-defence lesson I’d ever taken forgotten in an instant.

  “Get up,” she barked as I lay there, stunned. “Again.”

  What followed was the most brutal ass kicking of either of my lives.

  I was no stranger to a brawl, but she had me outclassed from the start. Even the boost from my Body magic wasn’t enough to close the gap. She kept me on the defensive the entire time, neatly parrying any strikes of my own before taking me down. All I could do was get back up and keep trying.

  By the time she called an end to the torture, I was barely able to stand. My legs shook and my breath came out in harsh pants. Grime stained my clothes and my braid had come loose, the dusty strands clung to my sweat-slicked skin.

  The knight barely looked warmed up.

  “Not bad.” She harrumphed. “I thought I’d be dealing with a whiny, spoiled brat, but you’ve got guts, and you’ve got spirit.”

  “Th-thank you … ma’am,” I managed to wheeze.

  “Ser Sara will do. Get yourself some water, then join the others.” Without waiting for a reply, she spun on her heels, scattering our audience like pigeons.

  We’d gathered an impressive one — everyone from the other trainees all the way up to the pair of knights who’d been running lances at targets on horseback. A few of the knights still watched me, but the annoyed glares were gone, replaced by speculative glances.

  The water barrel stood against the building’s rear wall, along with a long wooden bench. I collapsed onto it with a groan and leaned my head back against the sun-warmed stones.

  Every inch of me hurt. Including my hair; one of Ser Sara’s takedowns had involved dragging me by my damned braid. The warmth from the stones seeped into my sore muscles. I relaxed and let my eyes slip closed — just for a moment.

  Something appeared above me, blotting out the sunlight leaking through my eyelids. A cool drop of water splashed against my cheek, and I blinked in surprise.

  A dented tin cup hovered before my eyes, the drops of water running down its side sparkling in the light.

  I took it eagerly and drained its contents in loud gulps. The cold water soothed my parched throat, and washed the thin film of dust out of my mouth. It tasted amazing.

  As I looked up to thank whoever had given it to me, I saw Autumn’s broad back as he walked away.

  ———————

  The sun was setting as I stumbled wearily to my waiting coach. I was sweaty, dirty, and exhausted. My makeup was ruined, my shirt was torn in several places, and I was bruising rather spectacularly. I was looking forward to a long, hot bath to soothe my poor, aching muscles.

  It had been the best day ever.

  Ser Sara had decided that teaching me ‘courtly swordplay’ was a waste of both her time and mine. My small stature and proportionately shorter arms meant I would always be at a disadvantage when wielding a full-length sword. Instead, she decided to train me in a more practical (aka dirty) combat style that took advantage of my size and agility, namely knife fighting. By the end of the session, most of the trainees had at least started to warm up to me, and a few of the more experienced knights had been willing to offer advice when I was struggling.

  I had even managed not to lose either my cravat or the cameo.

  Stolen story; please report.

  The only person who had yet to thaw towards me was Autumn. Other than a few barked commands, he mostly acted like I didn’t exist.

  Mostly. Every once in a while, I’d caught him watching me closely when he thought I wasn’t paying attention.

  A cool breeze swept across the field, cutting through the thin, sweaty cloth of my shirt, and I shivered. Normally, I’d still be out helping the trainees clean up, but I’d been excused for today on account of being dead on my feet. Ser Sara had not gone easy on me.

  My foot caught on a patch of uneven ground and I stumbled, too tired and uncoordinated to catch myself. I fumbled clumsily with my new blades cradled in my arms, almost dropping them. As I lurched sideways, a hand caught my elbow, supporting me as I regained my footing.

  “Thank yo— oh.” I turned towards my rescuer with a grateful smile, only to find it was my brother who had helped me. “Ah … Autumn. Uhm. Thank you.”

  He released my arm and quickly stepped away. “You did well,” he said brusquely, scratching his cheek and looking away. “Way better than I expected.”

  “It’s an honour, being allowed to train here. I’m not going to waste the opportunity.”

  He nodded, the muscle in his jaw twitching. It felt like he had something he wanted to say, but hadn’t figured out how to say it yet.

  I waited, my smile growing strained as he continued to look at anything but me.

  He shifted his weight and scratched the back of his leg with the toe of his boot.

  Damn it.

  I spun and bowed, making him jump. “I’m sorry, Autumn.”

  He stared at me in bewilderment.

  “I may not remember it, but I know I treated you badly, and I’m sorry. Thank you for your help, and for letting me train with you today.”

  …

  …

  Fuck. How was this worse?!

  I could swear the damn crickets were laughing at me.

  “… That’s all I wanted to say.” I straightened, unable to meet his eyes. My fingers unconsciously began toying with the edge of my torn sleeve. “I’ll ask Tempest to find me another instructor.” Somewhere. Maybe one of the idiots he’d interviewed wasn’t a complete disaster.

  I slumped and sadly turned to climb into the coach.

  A hand on my shoulder stopped me.

  “This doesn’t mean I’m forgiving you.”

  I tilted my head, my heart hopeful as I looked up at Autumn. Damn, he was tall — the guy had easily a foot on me. How the hell had I ended up so short?

  “You were an ass and a monster. But… you tried damned hard today.” He scratched the back of his neck. “You earned your place here. So, yeah. Don’t waste this chance.”

  Close enough.

  I smiled in relief. “Thank you, Autumn.”

  Autumn’s ears went red and he flushed, crossing his arms and looking away with feigned nonchalance. He failed badly.“Right. Don’t think this means I’m going easy on you.”

  “Of course not,” I replied lightly. “I’m looking forward to our next lesson.”

  There was a soft ‘aww’ from behind Autumn.

  I twisted to look past him only to find all the trainees gathered around, watching us with sappy smiles.

  Autumn spun and snarled. “Did I say you were done?!”

  The trainees scattered with a laugh.

  “When I said ‘clean up,’ I meant everything! Move it! You! If you’re that bored, you can give me another two laps!”

  I boarded my coach, my heart light, unable to fight off the smile playing at the corner of my lips.

  Today had been a most excellent day.

  ———————

  As promised, Autumn and Ser Sara did not go easy on me, pushing me just as hard as any of the other knight-trainees. In a very short time, me and my assortment of knives could hold our own, regardless of the type of weapons I went up against. Ser Sara liked moving me between the various groups of trainees, both to give me a shitload of practice and to drive home the idea that a small, fast opponent could be just as dangerous as a strong, heavily armoured one.

  My magic lessons were not going nearly as well. Thanks to Theodora, I could reliably channel my magic, but it was still far too temperamental to be useful — it tended to respond far more to my emotions than my will. After I’d gotten frustrated and blown up a lab counter full of glassware, she’d forbidden me from trying anything without her direct supervision. I was more than happy to comply — precision glassware was expensive.

  I returned home after a full day, yawning as I climbed the front steps. There was a big meal and a hot bath waiting for me in my rooms, and dear gods, I needed both. Between training with the knights, learning magic with Theodora, and my new job, I was wiped out.

  It had taken Tempest’s PI friend, a skeletally thin man named Wren who looked — and smelled — like an alcoholic weasel, almost two weeks to get back to him. He’d been less than thrilled with the request, and basically treated me like a glorified secretary–slash–gopher. I mostly fetched coffee and ran errands while a pair of bored House guards trailed behind me.

  As soon as Ser Sara had found out, she’d added hand-to-hand and improvised weapons training to my workload. The bruises I was earning were getting impressive. I’d had to order a whole new batch of ointment.

  Wren had finally warmed up to me when he found out that my scientific knowledge was literally out of this world. Wren wasn’t much of a mage, but he was a brilliant alchemist.

  He worked out of a tiny, cramped office just off King’s Road, in area called Artisan’s Row. It was a maze of cramped, twisting streets stuffed with tiny workshops, and today’s list of errands had taken me from one end of it to the other. Not that I minded — the place was full of fascinating little shops. I had another new set of glass hair ornaments in my pocket that I’d picked up while I was out.

  My hopes for a peaceful evening were dashed when I pushed open the front door and found Louise hovering anxiously in the foyer.

  She curtsied deeply the second she saw me. “Milord, thank the gods you’re here!” She looked nervously over her shoulder and stepped closer, lowering her voice. “His Highness is here. He has been waiting to see you.”

  I sighed. My ‘fiancée’ had finally made his appearance, and I was in no mood to deal with him. “How long has he been here?”

  “He arrived around teatime and insisted on waiting for you. I have suitable attire laid out if you would like to quickly freshen up?” She offered hopefully, glancing at my plain working clothes and simple jewelry. A necessity, it had turned out — The way I usually dressed would scare off Wren’s clients. This way, I could almost pass as a very minor noble or a well-off merchant’s son.

  “No, I’m fine.” This was my chance to end my engagement before it got me killed. At this point, if dressing like a clown was what would help me get rid of him, that’s what I would do. “Where is he?”

  “Th-The solar, milord, but–”

  I held up a hand to stop her. “Thank you, Louise. I’ll handle it.”

  She gaped as I turned and walked off, whistling merrily.

  Built by Tempest’s mom, the solar was a sort of half-parlour, half-greenhouse attached to the south face of the manor. Tempest liked to take his breakfast there every morning.

  A pair of guards in Royal livery stood in front of the solar’s glass doors. They scowled when they saw me.

  One stepped forward to bar my way.“Your pardon, Lord Dusk, but you’ll have to leave those with us.” He gestured at the scabbard and long knives at my waist. “No weapons are allowed in his Highness’s presence.”

  I smiled sunnily, and handed them over.

  Along with the throwing knives up my right sleeve. And the one tucked into the front of my corset-vest. There was another one in the back, running up along one of the vest’s ribs. Then there were a pair of thin stilettos tucked into the top of one of my boots and a small punch knife hidden in the sole of the other… The guard turned a bit grey as I handed over my arsenal piece by piece, forming a tidy little pile.

  Still smiling, I shook out my hair and placed the long, sharp spike I had used as a hairpin on top of the heap and stepped back.

  “Is… that all?” He asked weakly. “… Lord Dusk?”

  “It should be,” I answered cheerily. In all honesty, I’d lost count. It had turned into a bit of a game, seeing how many knives I could discreetly carry at once.

  The two guards shared an uneasy glance. Guard number two shrugged at guard number one and stepped aside.

  I pushed the door open and finally got my first look at my soon-not-to-be fiancée.

  Crown Prince Victor del Arcturis looked… well… exactly like a crown prince in a shitty romance game.

  He’d chosen to lounge on a chaise while he waited, posed to show off his toned body and long legs. His wavy blond hair seemed to glow in the last light of the setting sun, while the deepening shadows highlighted his strong, noble features. His emerald eyes sparkled as he looked over at me and smiled.

  He looked like a self absorbed, arrogant prick.

  “Lord Dusk,” he acknowledged.

  I bobbed into a quick bow, just managing to catch sight of his displeased frown before he smoothed it over. Good. “Your Highness. I wasn’t expecting your visit. I’m honoured. I trust you weren’t left waiting for too long?”

  Without waiting for an invitation, I went over to the small table in the middle of the room and took a seat. Someone had left behind coffee and some scones for the prince and I helped myself, pouring a large cup of coffee and taking a bite of a scone. If I couldn’t have my bath, this was the next best thing.

  Prince Victor‘s jaw fell open.

  “I’m sorry, your Highness, did you want one too?” I asked innocently, fluttering my eyelashes at him as if I was unaware of just how many protocols I’d broken.

  I had very good fluttering lashes.

  “Are… you well, Lord Dusk?”

  Was I sane, he meant.

  “Yes, your Highness.” I added cream and honey to my coffee and took a sip, not bothering to elaborate.

  He shifted awkwardly. “I’m … glad to hear it.”

  “It’s been a tough recovery, of course,” I added, watching him closely out of the corner of my eye. I was still a little bitter over the whole not visiting me thing, and I wanted to make him squirm. “The Healer tells me the damage is permanent. I’ve recovered well, all things considered.”

  He glanced guiltily at the pale scar just visible along my hairline.

  He should feel bad.

  I’d been a shitty boyfriend in my past life — I’d missed dates, birthdays, and on one horrible occasion, a funeral. But I’d never left a girlfriend to fend for herself when she was hurt.

  “I’m lucky I have my job to keep me occupied. It’s excellent therapy, I’ve been told.” I laughed lightly. “I’m not sure I would get very far if all I did was lie around looking pretty.”

  The prince’s lip twitched in annoyance, so fast I’d have missed it if I blinked. Violet—1, murderous engagement—0.

  He smiled politely. “I wasn’t aware you were looking for a new pastime. May I ask what sort of employment caught your interest?”

  “It’s an apprenticeship, actually.” I casually licked the last crumbs of scone off my fingers, completely ignoring my napkin. “‘Employment’ would suggest I’m getting paid.”

  Prince Victor’s mouth slammed shut. I could hear his teeth click together.

  “May I be blunt, your Highness?”

  His lips thinned, but he nodded tightly. I’d been pretty damned blunt already. “…Please.”

  “Your fiancée is dead.”

  He paled.

  I winced. That might have been too blunt. “Not literally, your Highness — I’m not a corpse. But I meant it when I said there was permanent damage. My memory's gone. The person I used to be is effectively dead.”

  “… I was under the impression you’d had a riding accident,” he said quietly. “I should not have assumed it was a minor incident.”

  “No. You shouldn’t have.”

  “I apologize.”

  “I’m not in love with you.”

  He blinked. “… I beg your pardon?”

  “I don’t love you. I don’t even like you.” I sighed. “Hells, I don’t even know you. And I suspect you never liked me much either. Which brings me to our engagement. I want to dissolve it.”

  He stiffened. “Lord Dusk, this seems somewhat hasty—“

  “It’s not. I don’t know why you agreed to marry me, but it wasn’t for love. Can you really sit there and tell me you’d be happy being married to me?”

  The prince’s eyes glittered, but he said nothing.

  “That’s what I thought. Your Highness, I hope that someday you meet someone who you’ll truly love.” And it was going to happen within the next year if I was right. “But that’s not me.”

  I stood, stretching out my back. “Have a good evening, your Highness. It was a pleasure to finally meet you.”

  He made no move to stop me as I left, closing the door behind me.