Page 110 of Fallen Nocturne

“I owe you my life, girl.” Hrolf’s voice is gruff but not unkind. “This sword doesn’t even begin to repay that debt.”

He pushes it back toward me. “Take it and use it. Protect your people with it.”

My hand closes around the grip, and the sword feels perfect. It’s not too heavy and not too light. The blade is balanced like it was made for my hand specifically.

It was.

“Thank you,” I whisper, and the words are woefully inadequate. “Hrolf, I—thank you.”

He waves a hand dismissively, but I can see the happiness in his eyes. “Bah. Don’t get weepy on me. It’s just a sword.”

“It’s more than that,” I say firmly. My gaze drops to the blade, where firelight dances along the edge. “It’s hope. A bridge between our peoples.”

Hrolf grunts, though his eyes soften. “Let’s see if you can use it first. Show me whether you know how to hold the thing.”

I adjust my grip and step into a defensive stance.

“Your form is sound.” He nods at the open space in the center of the forge.

I step into the space and demonstrate the sequence Rainer taught me as a child. A diagonal strike, a turn of the wrist, then a low sweep intended to strike an opponent across the legs. The Starfall steel moves so smoothly that the blade seems to anticipate each motion before I make it. Hrolf circles me slowly, assessing.

I repeat the movements, trying to ignore the awareness prickling at the back of my neck. Arescaine has stopped working and is watching.

Hrolf watches my feet rather than the sword. “Your balance is good, but you’re leaving your right side open. Against someone taller, they’ll use their reach and strike before you can close the distance.”

I repeat the movement. This time, the turn feels faster and more controlled.

“Much better.” Hrolf glances toward Arescaine, who remains beside the workbench. “Vampire.”

Arescaine lifts an eyebrow.

Hrolf tosses him a practice sword and he catches it neatly by the grip. “Spar with her.”

Arescaine looks at the sword in his hand, then at me. Something careful moves across his face. “Is that necessary?”

“I want to see how she moves against someone who knows what he’s doing,” Hrolf insists.

Arescaine does not answer. He turns the practice sword once in his hand, testing its weight, but makes no move toward me.

I wait.

The longer he hesitates, the clearer it becomes.

He does not think I am a match for him.

I have spent years being protected, watched over and underestimated. I do not need him doing the same.

“Do you think I cannot handle myself?” I ask.

His eyes lift to mine. “I know better than to think that.”

I give him a hard look. “Then stop looking at me as though Hrolf asked you to spar with a child.”

Something shifts in his expression.

I tighten my grip on Starfall and raise my chin. “Are you afraid I’ll damage your pride?”

A breath leaves him, slow and resigned. He steps into the open space across from me. The playfulness leaves his face. What replaces it is calm, focused, and far more dangerous than anything I've seen from him at the war table. He raises the practice sword between us.