Verath the Red (Dragonwall Series #3)

Chapter 34 - The Bathing Pool

Esterpine

Jeanine placed her hands on her knees, breathing hard. Each deep breath offered little against her screaming muscles. Stars popped in and out of her vision. Sweat rolled down her forehead. Even in the coolness of the forest it was a struggle.

Feowen insisted on pushing her past her limits until she was all but collapsing. Like now. Then taunted her for it. "By all means, take as long as you need. I've got nothing but time." His arms crossed, but the corner of his lips curved. He never missed an opportunity. After all, his was a superior existence that deserved recognition. She ought to have been annoyed. Instead, she found his reminders amusing.

Except for when she was keeled over, gasping for dear life. Like now. Then it wasn't very funny.

They'd been sparring for nearly two hours. Training to the rigors of Feowen's standards, which were less strict than Lykan, but also more helpful. She still trained with Lykan a few times a week, to keep up appearances. But Feowen offered better tips and feedback. She was learning in a constructive way, rather than merely practicing.

A subtle movement caught her attention. She glanced toward the edge of the clearing. A pair of eyes met hers. "Your sister is watching us," she said, her voice low.

"I know." The slide of metal broke the silence. Feowen sheathed his sword. "She's been there nearly ten minutes."

She stood, brushing away locks of hair sticking to her forehead. "Oh. Well, sorry if I was too busy trying to stay alive to notice."

"Relax. Hello, sweet sister. No need to keep gawking. Might as well join us and say what you've come to say." He glanced at Jeanine, muttering, "Not that we'll make much sense of it anyway." They shared a secret smile.

Taylynn swept from the undergrowth. Her keen gaze pinned on them. "I'm pleased to see you practicing so...diligently." She glanced at Jeanine before looking back at Feowen. "Her training is progressing well, yes? Good. In time, she will come to need it."

Jeanine's brow furrowed.

"In time?" Feowen's head tilted, predatory in nature. "Always the cryptic one, Sister. I'm surprised you even care, given your stance on violence."

"I need not like violence to know when it is necessary. Swords win arguments as well as words." She was met with silence. "Oh, all right. All right. I came to say goodbye."

"You're leaving again?" The tone in Feowen's voice changed, from annoyance to concern.

"I must. You know I must."

"And what is your excuse this time?" He crossed his arms.

"The Stones. Obviously. I must return them."

Feowen's expression clouded over. "Mother gave them back?"

A faint tut escaped Taylynn's lips. "Only after another argument."

"About?"

The princess glanced at Jeanine before saying, "It was as we expected. She refused to hand them over. Even after I reiterated my role." Taylynn screwed up her face, mimicking Queen Jade as she said, "'You cannot expect me to give them to you. How can I trust you won't give them away again?'" A perfect impersonation. Absolutely perfect. Jeanine hid her wicked smile.

Feowen shrugged. "You can hardly blame her."

"Can't I, though?"

"She is bitter over Cyrus. You know how she holds grudges."

"I did what I had to do, Feowen. She knows that. You know that. I know that. We all know that."

"True. But I'm not sure she will ever forgive you for it."