The Beauty in Pain | Book One of In Pain Trilogy *EDITING*

44. The Signal

"How long has it been?"

Saenar didn't look at Madeline when he answered. He continued sharpening his sword, the shrill sound lighting the air before he finally said, "Four days."

Madeline wasn't deterred by his uninterested answer. She saddled closer to him, peering over as his hands made quick work with his file and his sword. She had her own sword slung at her hips, but she was too unaccustomed with it. It hung heavy and uncomfortable. Madeline wondered when it too would become like a part of her body.

"Do you think she's okay?" she asked Saenar.

He paused for a half a second before continuing what he was doing. "She has to be."

"I hope they're both okay," she murmured. They had already set up camp in the hills near the capital. Fires cackled nearby and hundreds of lycans gathered around, their camps standing to their backs as they talked about the attack. Madeline could hear snippets of some conversations. For the most part, they were excited. If all went well, they were free.

She supposed them being excited was a good thing.

"Spar with me," she demanded.

"I do not have the time, Madeline."

In the past, Madeline would have slapped him for calling her by her first name. Now, she didn't even notice. "Come on," she pushed. "Just a quick one. I want to see if I'm getting better and no one will spar with me."

"That's because they do not like you."

"Well, I don't like them either. Saenar, spar with me. You can always sharpen your sword later."

"Madeline, please do not bother me." His voice was low and dangerous. Ever since they've left he has been all business. "You'll make me regret bringing you along."

"I would have followed you anyway. Saenar, I will not ask you again."

On a groan, Saenar finally put his file away. Madeline sprang to her feet in glee. She pulled out her rapier and pranced backwards, working on the balls of her feet, just as Mynera taught her. "Go easy on me, Saenar," she said to him. "I'm not very good at this as yet."

Saenar didn't reply. Madeline was dressed in simple brown breeches, brown leather shoes and a white shirt. She hated wearing it; it was so beneath her. But it was the easiest clothing to move in when using a sword.

Madeline danced backwards. The sword still felt quite heavy in her hands. Mynera had said that holding a sword should feel natural, like it was a part of her arm, but so far it felt like dead weight. It was the lightest sword she could use, easy for beginners but even so, Madeline struggled. She lifted it upwards, then down to the ground, as Mynera had demonstrated.

Saenar came at her without warning. She barely managed to jump backwards with block. "I wasn't ready!" she exclaimed.

"Your enemy won't wait for you to be ready." He struck again, whirling around with a heavy blow. Madeline could have sworn some of her hair received the blow when she ducked underneath it.

He was moving too fast, way too fast for her to keep up. She could barely manage to block his attacks and, before long, Saenar's sword was positioned at her neck. Laughter rose up around them. She looked scathingly at the lycans but no one paid her any mind. They knew her as Queen Madeline but the didn't treat her as one.

"And you're dead."

Madeline glared at Saenar. "You did that on purpose."

"Yes. To be more realistic. Your enemy won't take slow steps and they definitely won't wait for you to be alert before they attack. They want you dead and they don't mind stabbing you in the back for that to happen. Straighten up. Again."