Very well. Then let's begin."
Eliana straightened immediately. The training courtyard was quiet at this hour, morning mist brushing against her skin like a silent warning. Sebastian stepped closer—too close—and extended a sword toward her. It was lighter than she expected, yet her fingers still tightened around the hilt.
"If you are to protect me," he said calmly, "you must first learn how not to die."
"I don't plan on dying."
A faint smirk touched his lips. "Everyone plans not to."
Without warning, his wooden blade struck hers.
Clack.
The vibration ran up her arm. "Your grip is wrong," he murmured, moving behind her. Her breath stalled as his hand wrapped around hers, adjusting her fingers. His other hand settled lightly on her waist to correct her stance.
"Too stiff. Relax your shoulders."
Impossible.
Not when his chest hovered inches from her back. Not when his voice lowered like that.
She forced herself to focus.
Clack.
This time she held her ground.
Strike. Block. Turn. Step.
Time blurred. Her arm began to ache.
"You're slowing down."
"I'm not."
He attacked faster. She barely blocked in time, stumbling from the force. Before she could fall, his hand caught her wrist. Her back hit a stone pillar. His arm caged her in.
"Overconfidence," he said quietly, eyes darkening, "gets people killed."
"Then train me properly."
Something shifted in his expression. Dangerous. Measured. He leaned closer, his breath brushing her temple. "If I train you properly, you may regret asking."
"I won't."
A long pause.
Then he stepped back as if nothing had happened. "Again."
This time he did not go easy on her.
She fell twice. Scraped her palm once. But she stood every single time.
Sebastian watched differently now—not like a prince observing a subject, but like a man assessing something he was not prepared to lose.
Finally, he lowered his sword. "That's enough."
"Already?"
"You're exhausted."
"I can continue."
His gaze dropped briefly to the mark on her neck. It looked darker today. Almost reactive. His jaw tightened.
"You will rest," he said evenly. "And you will train under my command."
There it was again—that quiet possessiveness.
As she turned to leave, she did not notice the mark pulsing faintly beneath her skin.
Sebastian did.
And this time… he did not look pleased.