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Three.

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Reyna trudged through the camp, keeping her head down in an attempt to ignore the looks she received from anyone she passed, knowing well she'd be in a mood to bury the knife in her hand deep into their skull. Instead, she kept walking until she reached the edge of the camp's wooded outskirts, finding the perfect tree to fall victim to her temper's release.

Over and over she threw the knife towards the trunk. Again and again she retrieved it and aimed once more.

She was so focused on her efforts that she didn't hear her father as he approached. She had just let the knife loose again when she heard him humming behind her, the sound surprising her enough her aim was off and the knife hit the trunk sideways and landed in the rough at its base.

Straightening, she listened. It was the same lullaby he used to sing to her during the early years of her life, and she found herself murmuring the lyrics under her breath.

"Thos wirlk if iers os nis aus os suums, Thu minssurs auru ruaul les nis on wier kruaums."

With a sigh, she walked towards the target tree and removed the knife from its base before turning around to face her father. He leaned against a nearby trunk, arms crossed over his chest, with an amused smile plastered across his face.

He was her father, but he still pissed her off.

Reyna avoided looking at him as she returned to her designated throwing point of origin. "That doesn't always work, you know."

Which was a lie.

And he knew it.

She threw the knife again.

"Reyna," the King began once he stopped humming the tune, attempting to regain her attention. She heard him take a tentative step closer, but instead of acknowledging his presence, she remained with her back to him as she moved once again to pick up her knife.

When she didn't answer, he took a deep breath as if preparing himself for what he was going to say next. "If this is what you really want, then I'll have Thessan start training you for it. Properly. Longer sessions and tougher exercises, but if you're up for it... I'll support you."

She stilled at his words, the weight of them falling upon her.

Was he truly offering her this? Finally giving her that which she wanted more than anything else? She furrowed her brows as her eyes began to burn. Reyna hated crying, especially in this camp, but with her father...

Slowly, she turned to face him, the emotion raw upon her face.

"Why?"

"Isn't that the same question I've been asking you since you wanted to come to this gods-forsaken camp?" Rikard countered.

But Reyna only shook her head. "If you're serious, you can't interfere. You can't make threats to the camp lords. You can't use your powers to intimidate- Hellus, I'd rather you not even be here that week."

Rikard frowned as she continued.

"I have to do this, to know that I can do this. On my own."

A small smile played at his lips as the King looked at her. She knew that look. It was the look he always gave her when he was reminiscing, thinking about the days she sat on his knee while he read stories, or when she was the youngling who was too afraid to learn to swim in the cool mountain rivers.

"Please," she breathed. "I need this."

He nodded slowly. "I know. So, I promise to keep my distance, to not make threats or interfere in anyway, if you promise to come back alive."

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