Chapter 10 · She Knows That Strike

"Walk with me."

Two fingers pressed against Valen's pulse. Light. Steady. He turned with his hand already near his knife.

Eliza stood behind him in the high-collared dress she'd worn before the judges. Torchlight caught the silver thread at her throat. Her face gave him nothing.

"Your Highness, I don't think—"

"I said walk."

She released him and headed for the east colonnade.

Valen should've kept going. Instead, he followed her past the last torch and into the stone shadows.

The crowd's roar faded behind them. Eliza stopped beneath the third archway, then slipped into the old armory.

Valen stayed at the threshold.

"Are you coming?"

"You dragged me here."

"I touched your wrist. Don't make it sound romantic."

"I wasn't."

"Good."

He stepped inside.

Rusty weapons crowded both walls. Eliza walked between them, then leaned against a rack of chipped spears and folded her arms.

"That move in the fifth round," she said. "The low step. You came under his guard, twisted left, and struck behind the knee. What do you call it?"

"A way to win."

"Try again."

"I don't name every time I hit someone."

"Liar.