Inside the room, four guards were sparring, leaving the area with the practice dummies available.

Selene ignored the surprised and cautious glances sent her way as she drew her swords from the double scabbard around her waist and stood before the straw dummy. She seemed to be getting more of those glances over the last fortnight, even more than when she first arrived at Northwind Castle.

Perhaps it was her presence in the training room that made them uncomfortable. After all, this was her first time coming here alone. But Damien had encouraged her to follow her own pursuits, and she was finally following his advice.

She focused on the unpainted face of the dummy, breathed, then went through her first set of motions. Then the next. And the next.

Her body grew warm beneath the practice clothes she wore, her hands and arms moving of their own accord, while her mind moved from one thought to the next: the upcoming war, the festival, the gifts. Damien.

Suddenly, she sensed something was off. Selene paused midswing and looked over her shoulder. The four guards had stopped and were watching her. She lifted her chin and stared back, waiting.

Two glanced away, but the other two stepped forward. “Excuse me, my lady,” one of them said, his head bobbing in embarrassment. “We’ve never had a woman join us in the training room before.”

“Nor have we ever seen a fighting technique like yours,” said the other guard who was still watching her. “Sir Taegis said we might see you. Welcome.”

Her chin dropped, and her mouth would have too if she hadn’t stopped herself in time. She had expected veiled inquiries about her place here. Even with her position as Damien’s wife, she had anticipated uncertainty from others when she came to practice in the training room. Instead, she was greeted with quiet respect, at least by some of them.

She bowed her head toward the men. “Thank you.”

“If you ever need a sparring partner, I would be happy to oblige,” the first guard said.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll be the first one in line to spar with my wife.” There was a note of humor in that tenor voice.

The two guards bowed their heads while the other two spun around and did likewise.

Damien walked toward the other side of the training room and talked with the guards while Selene watched, a very different kind of warmth spreading across her body. Then he turned and smiled at her, raising the temperature inside of her to blazing—hot enough to burn away the coolness from those two guards who still regarded her warily.

“I was hoping I would find you so I could ask you something,” Damien said as he approached. His hair was wet, and his cheeks and the tips of his nose were ruby colored. His eyes were the brightest blue, matching the cloak he still wore over one shoulder. She wondered if he had been out practicing his gift.