“To see you,” he panted. “You’re . . . you’re surprisingly strong.”
Something about his words seemed to spook her, for she blinked several times. Then, as fast as she’d jumped him, she was off. He got to his feet quickly before she could attack him again with the dagger, which was, unsurprisingly, back in her right hand and raised in attack position.
Matteo held up both hands in surrender. “Please. Please, I am nothing more than a foolish courtier who wanted a glimpse of his future queen. I shall leave you at once. There is no need for further violence.”
The princess brought her dagger to her red mouth and licked the sharp edge. “But I was made for violence.”
His body was on fire and a bead of sweat trickled down his neck. Was she trying to intimidate him or flirt with him?
“I’m better with a sword,” he burst out, feeling like a callow youth.
She smiled and he felt as if his heart had been struck by lightning. She was so fiercely beautiful that he could barely breathe.
“Then we will have a sword duel to the first blood or until one of us surrenders,” the princess said casually, as if she fought duels on a regular basis.
Matteo bowed formally to her. “I accept your terms but suggest a prize for the winner.”
Tipping her head to one side, she eyed him speculatively as she bit her lower lip. “What prize?”
“A kiss.” He hadn’t planned on saying that, but his mind was still trying to catch up with his body’s desires.
The princess pointed her dagger at him.
“A kiss if you win,” she said, pointing the dagger at her own breast. “If I win, you’ll tell me your name.”
Matteo held out his hand and waited a moment until she took it. Her grip felt strong and her fingers calloused. It didn’t feel like a lady’s soft hand. But he should have already known that, based on her superior fighting skills. He also should have let go of her hand, but he didn’t want to. It wasn’t until she slightly tugged that he did.
Shaking his head again to clear it, he went back to the wall and called over to Xavier. “I need two swords.”
“Is she so ugly that you have to kill her?” his friend yelled back before guffawing. His crow cawed in an eerie echo.
Matteo wanted to die right there on the spot. His heart slowed to a sluggish beat. “Shut it and hand over my sword and yours.”
His friend passed the swords over with the blades first. Matteo grabbed them carefully, not wanting to slice himself before a fight. He kept his sword and handed the princess Xavier’s. Her dagger was now tucked into her waist. She wore all black: leggings, shirt, and a fitted vest. He thought that she resembled a female pirate.
“You like the color black?” he asked.
The princess smiled viciously as she sliced the air with the sword, testing its weight. “Black is my favorite color, unless you know of a darker one?”
Matteo couldn’t help but smile back at her. His whole body was abuzz with want. Raising his sword in front of his face, he waited for her to do the same. She did so with a sharp jerk, then flipped the handle around her finger like a street performer.
“En garde,” she said.
The princess clearly knew how to wield a blade.
He waited for her to attack first, but he shouldn’t have. Her initial lunge was straight for his throat; he barely parried in time. Matteo swung up, high and inside, trying to catch her by surprise. But the princess parried easily, her arm perfectly straight. He took a few steps and lunged as she echoed his steps and parried his thrust. She attacked from the high, inside shoulder and he did a riposte, a counterattack.
It felt like dancing.
One of them would make a move and the other would respond to it. Sword fighting with her was as heady as it was deadly. And then she lunged, low and outside. Matteo had been too distracted by her to get his blade there to protect his waist. But her tip didn’t hit him. Matteo’s instincts finally kicked in and he brought the handle of his sword down hard against her hand. She dropped her sword.
“I suppose I owe you a kiss,” she said with an alluring smile.
His heartbeat quickened as she leaned toward him. Her calloused fingers caressed his face lightly like a soft wind. She ran her rough thumb over his lower lip. It was exquisite torture. He felt her mint breath on his cheek and took in her scent of white flowers and rain. Her lips hovered above his tauntingly for several moments before they pressed gently against his mouth. She tasted salty and sweet as her lips moved softly but thoroughly over his.
Too soon, the princess broke the kiss, but she didn’t move back. Instead, she leaned her forehead against Matteo’s.
“Princess Eleanora, why did you let me win?” he asked.