It was after noon when Dante woke up, but Prim was still sleeping in his arms, so he didn’t move. He just enjoyed the sound of her cute little snores and the feel of her warm, soft skin pressed against his. When she did wake, they remained in bed for another half an hour, cuddling and talking about the dream she had in which Dante turned into an apple and she accidentally ate him.

“If it makes you feel any better, you were delicious,” she laughed as Dante pinched her playfully.

It was so nice to see her smiling and happy again. He wanted to keep her mind off all the Kallia and invisible assailant and Helena bullshit as long as possible. “Let’s go to the armory.”

Prim was still smiling, but she narrowed an eye at him in suspicion. “Why?”

“I haven’t had a proper workout in weeks. And you said you trained everyday, but I’ve seen you there exactly once,” he said teasingly.

Prim dropped her jaw in mock indignation. “It’s been a bit hectic around here lately!”

Dante climbed out of bed, enjoying how Prim’s eyes soaked up his naked form before he pulled on his undershorts and pants. “Let’s see if the master can beat me.” Dante wagged his brows at Prim and she laughed, agreeing.

The pair stopped by Kallia’s chambers first to find Blukke still resting and Bristol watching over him. The handmaiden explained Kallia was still locked in her room, but Dante confirmed for them that he could hear her sleeping. Satisfied she wasn’t needed, Prim led him to the armory.

The man who she’d trained with the day Dante watched her was in the sparring arena, and Prim said she wanted to work with him for a while, but that she’d take on Dante before they left. He only watched her fight the snake shifter for a few minutes before approaching a huddle of several guards and asking if he could train with them. The group performed many strength training exercises before splitting into pairs for sparring, switching partners after each match. Some used wasters while some used only their hands, but none used magic, so Dante didn’t either. While Dante was easily the tallest and widest of the lot, he was pleased to find out he wasn’t the best fighter. He won five matches but lost two.

After everyone had a turn with each member of the group, the guards started to disperse. Dante made a point to stop the two guards who had bested him, introducing himself. The human had an easy smile but the fae kept a straight face as Dante made small talk, wanting to feel out the men to see if they were as trustworthy as they were talented—he’d feel better when he left for Pregg knowing there were at least some competent guards around.

Prim approached, her cheeks rosy and face glistening. Both guards smiled at the handmaiden, greeting her by name, and she returned the gesture. She nudged Dante with an elbow. “Making friends or just trying to get some pointers? Can’t go wrong with Morgan and Crale either way.” She winked at the guards.

“Both,” Dante said, offering the guards a smile of his own, which they returned though Crale’s was a bit hesitant.

Prim didn’t hide her amusement. “Don’t let me interrupt. Jacques and I are done, but I can work on dagger throwing until you’re ready for our match.” She squeezed his forearm innocently before walking toward an area of the arena filled with wooden targets and a display of knives. Dante noticed both men kept their eyes on her back as she retreated.

The human, Morgan, blew out a breath. “You’re her escort, right? How’d you get that position right off the bat?”

Dante folded his arms over his chest. “Kern Hollon appointed me. He and I go way back,” he lied.

Crale’s wings fluttered. “Sorry for your loss,” he said sincerely.

Morgan shook his head. “That was quite a shock. Never expected him to take his own life like that.”

Dante narrowed his eyes at the human. “He didn’t. He was murdered by an invisible assailant. Same as the guards killed yesterday and Prince Neros.” The guards needed to know about the threat. Know what they were up against.

“No shit?” the man breathed, exchanging a look with the fae.

“Thanks for the heads-up,” Crale offered, then flicked his eyes to Prim who was throwing a collection of knives with deadly precision. “You’re going to spar with her?”

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Dante nodded and the fae’s lips curved in the first genuine smile Dante had seen during their brief time together. “Good luck.”

The two men walked away, but didn’t leave the arena. Instead they leaned against a wall, Crale with his arms folded over his chest and Morgan with his hands in his pockets. Dante smiled to himself as he fetched Prim to start, proud of her for commanding such respect that they’d want to stick around to watch the match.

He immediately realized why. As impressive as she’d seemed when he watched her fighting Jacques, she was even more impressive when he was actually going up against her. And she did not hold back.

Dante didn’t attempt to strike her, instead focusing on blocking her kicks and punches. She was fast enough that he wasn’t entirely successful. When she punched him in the ribs and he grunted before she immediately pulled her fist back aiming at the exact same spot, he used his gift to stop her.

She dropped her hands, straightening as she caught her breath. “Don’t use your magic! Unless you want me to use mine,” she said devilishly, wiggling her fingers in a mock threat.

Dante shook his head, smiling as he rubbed his ribs. Then he curled his fingers in an invitation to proceed. She came at him again and he was able to block her for a couple minutes before she got a good kick in to his side that had him doubling over. She didn’t pause her attacks and he shot into the sky to escape her.

He flapped his wings, hovering just over her head and out of reach. She looked up at him indignantly. “No flying, either!”

Dante scoffed, lowering himself to the ground. “No magic and no flying? You know no opponent you’d ever face will abide by such rules.”

Prim walked to him slowly. She was glowing in the afternoon sun, her sweat sparkling like jewelsf. “You’re not a real opponent. This is for fun. Even without your magic and wings you still outmatch me with your muscles. Or are those just for show? Just for the ladies to enjoy?” She batted her eyelashes teasingly.

The next time Dante offered to spar with her, he would make sure they were alone so he could remind her exactly how much she enjoyed his muscles. He continued blocking her strikes until she pulled back again.

“What are you doing? I thought you were going to be my partner, not my punching bag. Hit me.” She smiled arrogantly. “Well, try to, anyway.”

Dante hesitated. Prim certainly wasn’t holding back, but he was sure he would inflict far more damage on her if he was giving it his all. Still, he started trying to hit her--though a bit lazily. He never made contact; her blocks were too effective.

She pulled back again, this time looking a bit annoyed. “I saw you sparring with the other guards. I know this is not all you can do. Stop being a pussy and hit me.”

“I’m trying,” he insisted, though her narrowed glare revealed she was well aware he wasn’t trying very hard.

She unleashed herself more vehemently than she had before, and Dante couldn’t keep up as the punches and kicks kept coming. If she wanted a proper match, he would give her a proper match. He threw his own punches and kicks with vigor, but she easily evaded them by blocking, jumping aside, or doing one of those tantalizing backbends, always popping up to get another hit in before he had a chance to switch back into defense.

“That’s more like it,” she said, barely ducking away from a punch that would have landed on her face.

Dante stepped back to remove his navy uniform shirt, using it to wipe away the sweat stinging his eyes before tossing it on the ground and resuming their match. A moment later, his fist finally made contact with her stomach.

He stilled, worried he’d hurt her. She grunted but didn’t pause for a moment, immediately kicking him with such force that he actually stumbled back and lost his balance, falling to the ground. Apparently she could take a punch as well as she could take other things.

Cheers sounded from the side and Dante looked to find Morgan and Crale clapping, as well as a couple other guards who had joined them to watch.

Prim reached her hand down to help him up and he accepted. Once he was standing, she braced her hands on his shoulders to heft herself up, wrapping her legs around him. Dante held her thighs in support. He wanted to kiss her, but didn’t think that would be appropriate in front of all these people, despite her current position revealing she was quite friendly with him.

“See? I’m not so breakable. Cheap trick, though, taking your shirt off to distract me like that.”

That’s not why Dante did it. He was really just hot and thought his movements were too confined in that stiff fabric, but he let her think that. “Imagine how much faster you could have taken me down had you taken your shirt off.”

She threw her head back, snorting. “Next round in my chamber and we’ll put that to the test.”

He didn’t bother telling her he’d already decided on that.

Dante set her back down, her shirt now darkened with not only her sweat but his from being pressed against his torso. He loved his smell on her.

“Up for another round today?” she asked slyly.

Dante rubbed a hand over his side that had taken the most beating. “I don’t think I can take any more hits to my ribs right now,” he admitted.

“I wasn’t talking about sparring,” she said in that mischievous low voice that made Dante have to stifle a groan. She walked toward the exit, throwing a look over her shoulder at Dante before bowing dramatically to their audience.

Dante heard one of them say they were going to request escort duty. He laughed to himself as he collected his shirt and stalked after Prim. Good fucking luck with that.