Lincoln stands at the center of the ballroom floor, a square of padded mats beneath his feet. He faces Nat, the man who inspected the Furor dragon at the Winter Tournament. The pair run through battle moves with wooden swords. Lincoln wears black knee-length spandex shorts and, well, nothing else. I watch the play of muscles across his back, arms, and legs. Damn, he looks tasty. My lust demon purrs inside me.

I raise my arm. “Hello!”

Nat pauses and waves. “Hello there!” He has a square face with a round nose, mismatched button eyes, and grizzled chin. Both his barrel-shaped chest and stocky limbs are firm with muscle. Like Lincoln, he wears compression pants, only his are paired with an olive green t-shirt.

With his opponent distracted, Lincoln drops onto his knee, swinging his free leg against Nat’s shins. The elder man falls, hitting the mat face-first with a thud.

Lincoln hops to his feet. “Always stay mindful of the battle, Nat. You taught me that.” He jogs to the edge of the mats, pulls on a white t-shirt and waves in my direction. “Hello, Myla!”

“Hi. Sorry I’m late.” To whatever weirdness this is.

“No problem. It gave me and Nat a chance to practice.” He gestures to the older man beside him. Nat’s back on his feet and smiling. “I don’t believe you two have officially met. Myla, I’d like to present Nathaniel Archer, my Master at Arms.”

“Master at Arms?”

Nat half bows. “That means I teach the young Prince how to fight demons, milady.” He has a gravelly voice with a cute cockney accent.

Lincoln winks. “And stay alive in the process.” He steps up to the edge of the mats, then pauses. Our gazes lock; energy zings in the space between us. We share a slow and warm smile. I missed you too, Lincoln. I ache to wrap my arms around him.

Nat steps between us. “I’m also here as royal chaperone.” He clears his throat. “In case any ladies should stop by what’s officially a boys-only work out.”

I tilt my head to one side. “You’ve never had a chaperone before, Lincoln.”

His smile droops. “We’ll get to that in a bit.”

“Good.” I’ve zero desire to hear about the Earl of Acca right now. There’ll be plenty of time for that nightmare. Later.

Lincoln rubs his palms together, his full smile returning. “I’ve a surprise for you first. Nat here will teach you how to fight with something besides your tail.”

My heart feels like a balloon about to float to the ceiling. “Really?” I race up to the edge of the mats and bob on the balls of my feet. I’ve never had actual combat training.

Best. Surprise. Ever.

Nat sets his hands on his hips. “Now, be fair, my Prince. I never agreed to attack the young Miss.”