momentum you’ll have.” He finally caught sight of Kiem standing in the doorway and broke off.

Kiem waved and came forward, seeing as he’d interrupted them anyway.

“Looks like fun. Can I join?” he asked, half-jokingly.

“Oh.” Jainan seemed surprised, but instantly recovered. “Of course. Please.”

He handed Kiem his own bronze quarterstaff. Kiem took it gingerly. It was much heavier than he’d expected but couldn’t be traditional metal, since it wasn’t cold. “Ah, not quite.” Jainan put his hands over Kiem’s—for once without diffidence—and shifted his grip. “You want to hold it here.”

His touch was warm. Kiem tried not to think about that as he settled his hands around the staff. “Didn’t mean to hijack your lesson,” he said. “Just show me one move.”

“Jainan, the pair forms,” Gairad said. She seemed refreshingly unbothered by the fact Kiem was a prince. “Can we try form five?”

“Yes. Kiem, would you mind?” Jainan picked up a white handle from the ground, which folded out into something like the quarterstaff Gairad was using, cheaper and flimsier-looking than his own. “Traditional quarterstaff has twenty basic moves, and one to six are for fighting with an ally. Since we have three people, Gairad’s form five could do with work.”

“I haven’t had anyone to practice with,” Gairad said defensively. Kiem spun his staff experimentally beside her, fumbled it, and lost his grip. It clattered to the ground around Gairad’s ankles. Gairad picked it up and handed it back to him with a martyred air. “At least I can be better than you. That’s motivating.”

Kiem grinned at her. “My form five’s perfect. Legendary, even. Angels weep.”

The corner of Jainan’s mouth twitched. “Of course,” he said. “But Gairad needs to practice.” Had that been a smile? Kiem wasn’t sure.

Once Kiem had his grip sorted out, the basics of quarterstaff turned out to be fairly easy to grasp. Form five meant Gairad doing a sort of crouching spin and taking her imaginary opponent out at the knees, while Kiem’s part was simpler

—he stepped forward next to her with what Jainan called a disarming strike, which meant hitting out with his staff at wrist height. They tried it a few times against thin air. Eventually, Jainan seemed satisfied with that, and readied his own staff. “All right. Kiem to hit, please.” He stepped in front of them and held up a block.

“Uh.” Kiem said. Gairad nodded and crouched, but Kiem didn’t move. “You want me to … attack you?”

There was a pause. Jainan gave Kiem a quizzical look. “I’m blocking.”

“What if I miss?” Kiem said. Swinging something heavy around had been kind of fun, but now he remembered why he’d never taken well to martial arts.

Jainan lowered the block. “I see. Gairad, why don’t you hit, then. Kiem, you can pull your strike.”

“Right,” Kiem said. Jainan politely hadn’t mentioned that there was no way Kiem could get past his guard, but Kiem still felt obscurely relieved. On Jainan’s snapped, “Five!” Kiem swung halfway. Gairad lashed out, and her staff hit Jainan’s with a violent crack.