Acotar and Tog [Discontinued, Will be deleted]

Don't call me that.

He could scent the ire radiating off of her. Good. That made two of them. He knew anger and he knew how to wield it, he had trained countless fae using that anger. The quicker he could train her, the quicker he would be free of this assignment. The quicker he would be away from the girl, who go under his skin.

“You must be very important to Her Immortal Majesty if she put you on nurse duty.”

“Given your history, she didn’t trust anyone but her best to keep you in line.”

“Playing warrior in the woods doesn't seem like the greatest indication of talent.”

“I fought on killing fields long before you, your parents, or your grand-uncle were even born.”

“Who’s to fight here except birds and beasts?”

Silence.

She could not be serious? She could not truly believe that Doranelle was always at peace, that Maeve did not weave her webs or the fact that immortality bred the nastiest of monsters.  Lyria had died at the hands of such monsters. He was the strongest fae male and he had failed to protect her against those monsters.

“The world is far bigger and more dangerous place than you can imagine, girl. Consider yourself blessed to receive any training -- to have the chance to prove yourself.”

“I’ve seen plenty of this big and dangerous world, princeling.”

“Just wait, Aelin.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“It’s your name. I’m not going to call you anything different.”

She stepped closer to him. She was fearless, no one approached him like that, not unless they wanted to die.

“No one here can know who I am. Do you understand?”

No not fearless. It had been fear at the mention of her name, the girl feared who she was. He did not understand why and honestly he did not care. He had one job and that was to train the girl. He needed to squash whatever curiosity started in that dank office.

“My aunt has given me a harder task than she realizes, I think.”

“Fae like you make me understand the King of Adarlan’s actions a bit more, I think.”

He saw nothing but red at her words. The rumors of the king had grown darker and more sinister over the past decade. There was no reason, no cause for what the king had become, for the lives he had stolen. He stops himself from landing the second blow that would have broken her jaw. Instead he vents the uprise of his anger with a low vicious snarl.

“Do it.”

Pain, she wanted to feel pain. He reminded himself that he was the trainer and he was in control.

“Why should I give you what you want?”

“You’re just as useless as the rest of your brethren.”

He could almost see the rage seeping from her. Oh, she did not know how right she was. A soft, lethal laugh escaped him, she didn’t even realize how useless he was when it mattered.

“If you are that desperate to eat stone, go ahead: I’ll let you try to land the next punch.”

He had to stop himself from laughing at her sloppy attempt to hit him.

“Like I said, you have a lot to learn. About everything.”

“Next time you say anything like that, I’ll have you chopping wood for a month.”

No one had gotten under his skin like this easily, well Fenrys. The boyo reminded him of the boy he had once been. Cocky. Arrogant. Stupid, so unbelievably stupid. They had nothing in common. She was a spoiled princess turned assassin, who did not see the world for the cess pit it was. She left her kingdom behind to suffer at the hands of a delusion king. Mistward was full of cold rooms.

“Give me your weapons.”

“Why? And no.”

He had expected that response, if what Maeve said was true, she was an assassin amongst the humans, she had  been wielding them for years. He had counted them on her, surprised not only by the amount, but how well they had been hidden.

“Give me your weapons.”

“Tell me why.”

“I don't have to explain myself to you.”

“Then we’re going to have another brawl.”

Brawl, what brawl?

“Starting at dawn, you’ll earn your keep by helping in the kitchen. Unless you plan to murder everyone in the fortress, there is no need for you to be armed. Or to be armed while we train. So I’ll keep your daggers until you’ve earned them back.”

“The kitchen?” Yes, princess the kitchen. He highly doubted in her first 8 years as princess she had ever worked. What he knew of the human assassin guilds they had houses and servants. Her days would have been like his, endless training.

“Everyone pulls their weight here. Princesses included. No one’s above some hard labor, least of all you.”

“So my training includes being a scullery maid?”

“Part of it.” Oh yes, he was going to enjoy riling her.

“For an old fae bastard, you certainly haven’t bothered to learn manners at any point in your long existence.”

“Why should I waste flattery on a child who is already in love with herself.”

“We’re related you know.”

“We’ve as much blood in common as I do with the fortress pig-boy.”

He counted the weapons as she dropped them in the bucket. They were well made, could tell that they had been made for her smaller figure. They were better, but the daggers were wrong for her frame, they were simply too heavy.

“Be ready at dawn.”

- - - - - - -

He knew that she would be waiting, he let the ice coat over the emotions he had just exposed before he was instructed by Maeve.

“Well?”

“She’s an angry arrogant girl who is ignorant of the world around her.”

“That is to be expected. How angry?”

“Burn the world angry.”

“Well at least in that sense you are a matched pair.”

His stomach turned at her statement. She had a plan and he was not sure what it was, but centuries had taught him it was never good. There was a reason why his aunt had selected him to train the girl. Gavriel was the best choice, he would have been gentle but firm in her training. Fenrys, well, maybe that would be a bad match, he’d spend too much time trying to get into the girl's pants. Lorcan . . . now that is something he would pay to see: Lorcan versus the princess.

“How well does she fight?”

He should not have been surprised, she somehow knew everything.

“With proper training, she could be one of the best, it’s her attitude that will limit her.”

“Train the girl, both magic and fighting. You may bring her to Doranelle once she can hold her own against you.”

Maeve didn’t stay for his response. Didn’t need to, the order was clear. The girl had raw talent, and he needed for her not to be broken tomorrow. He knew damn well she would more likely accept a gift from Maeve, then from him. She stared at him with nothing but pure hatred. He wrote a note and left the tin outside the door.

You deserve it. Maeve sends her wishes for a speedy recovery.

He wasn’t sure why he said she deserved it, he just knew it was true.