Page 70 of The Mercy of Dawn

Would it kill people to believe in her capabilities once in a while?

It was infuriating how much easier her life would have been if she wasn’t a woman. No one would bat an eyelash, she was sure, if it were Dion or Bron here challenging the prince to a friendly physical wager. But gods forbid her and her feeble female body be capable of anything…

She ignored the hand Kaia offered to help her off the ground as Mikael and the others entered the arena again. If Kaia wanted to waver in her support, Cyril couldn’t be bothered with her.

Mikael shook his head at her when they met in the middle, but Cyril just asked, “Any rules?”

“No weapons.”

“Weapons?”

Mikael’s eyes dipped down to her boots.

Oh.

Cyril laughed. “Those.”

She eased out the thin blades tucked in the leather along the sides of her calves and tossed them over to where the rest of the guards gathered in a group.

“Any other rules?”

He leaned in, his eyes flickering with a mischievous glint, and said, “Try not to be too pissed with me when you lose, alright?”

Oh. She was going to enjoy this.

Cyril backed a few healthy steps away from Mikael. She lowered her center of gravity, shifting her weight from side to side until she felt comfortable and grounded. Basic, reliable defensive stance.

Mikael did the same.

“Ready?” she asked.

The prince only nodded, and they started their dance.

Slow, measured steps at first, as they circled each other.

Assessing. Observing.

Every time Cyril would shift her body with a slight movement, tension would flicker through every long line of muscle in Mikael's body. Ready to react, to strike.

He knew what he was doing, at least.

But just as Cyril assumed, the prince had no patience.

Whether he just wanted this over with, she didn’t know, but they hadn’t even circled each other twice when he moved to grab her.

And Cyril let him.

She let him grab her arm and haul her over.

Let him think he could use his weight to force her down, oblivious to the fact that this was exactly what she wanted. Taking down men this much larger than her wasn’t about overpowering them with raw strength, it was all about taking their predictability and turning it against them.

Cyril’s feet skidded across the dirt until she planted her heel and used the momentum to turn into him. Her elbow hit the center of his chest with such force that pain jolted up to her shoulder and straight down to her fingers. But Mikael released his grip on her arm and staggered back, a half-choked profanity tumbling out of him.

Fucking bullseye.

But Cyril couldn’t revel in her victory or the wild look in his eyes for long. She took a step and swung her knee, feinting for his groin—a dirty move, but one built on necessity.

As all men did by pure instinct, Mikael flinched and swatted for her leg.