Chapter 7
When dawn came on the morning of the Courting Ball, the newborn sun found Aislynn hard at work sparring with Byron, as had become her habit these past few days. Today they were fighting with their preferred blades, Byron with a long sword and Aislynn with a short sword and dagger.
The ring of metal on metal had drawn attention in a way very unlike the sound of wood on wood, and a small crowd of guards had gathered to watch. Byron had been expecting this to happen eventually, and he and Aislynn had discussed the likelihood of it with Tarren just the day before. They decided to answer any questions truthfully, for the most part, explaining that weapon training was a part of the royal upbringing in Evendell. If anyone made the connection to Rupert, the fact that he had been Aislynn’s cousin would explain his prowess too.
They were nearly finished for the morning, their movements starting to slow with fatigue. It looked like today would end in another draw, as had their practice sessions yesterday and the day before that, but then Byron suddenly forged ahead, trying to slip past Aislynn’s guard. She was ready for him this time though, determined not to repeat her mistake of the first day.
Aislynn danced aside, her weapons crossing to block Byron’s descending sword stroke. She pushed her blades up and apart, throwing Byron’s blade out to the side and following through with a thrust of her dagger. Byron froze, feeling the tip of the blade against his chest.
“I guess we’re tied now,” he commented to a smattering of applause from the group watching the exchange. They would be intolerable later, he knew, having watched their captain beaten by a nobly born lady.
“Yes, but I got the audience and you’re the only one who got to see me knocked flat on my back – twice.” Aislynn winked, sheathed her blades and wiped her sleeve across her sweaty brow.
“Well, I wasn’t able to go full out,” he claimed, grinning himself. “It wouldn't do to send you to the Ball tonight all covered in nicks and scratches.”
“Hah! You keep telling yourself that. I'll see you at breakfast.” With that, Aislynn excused herself, nodding to some of the guardsmen as she passed them, Cheta right on her heels. Byron was left to face his comrades-in-arms alone.
The King's Assassin Page 10
