Not that she blamed him. Or perhaps she did. The man did an excellent job at making her feel so justified one minute, only to have her feel wildly conflicted the next.
After pacing ruts into the floor, Vhalla decided that lingering wasn’t going to solve anything. She undressed quickly, rummaging through the virtual mountains of clothes to find something simple. Riding leggings that were no doubt intended to be worn underneath a skirt were paired with an oversized shirt that Vhalla fashioned as a tunic. It was certain to horrify the staff and Western nobility. But apparently her existence was already offensive, so she might as well be comfortably offensive.
On the way down to the training grounds, Vhalla walked on air, fluttered pennons, and played with the wind. She delighted in everything that she had taken for granted in the years prior to losing her magic. Things that she would never let be taken from her again.
Fussing with the tail of her braid, Vhalla entered the training ground. Here was another relationship she had ruined with harsh words and pushiness. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to see Jax again—or if he was ready to see her.
“Where is Major Jax?” Vhalla asked the first woman to cross her path on the dusty field.
“Major Jax?” the woman repeated. “I think he’s training with sorcerers in the pit.”
“Can you show me?” Vhalla folded her hands at the small of her back, quickly releasing them when she remembered how imposing Aldrik looked while doing so.
The young woman bowed deeply and stiffly guided her future Empress. More than one soldier gave pause and looked at her. Vhalla wondered if it was because she was the future Empress, or as a result of her prior run-in with Jax. She knew how soldiers talked.
The pit was exactly as the name suggested. Recessed into the ground and hexagonal in shape, the large fighting arena had all kinds of people at its edge cheering or shouting suggestions to two Firebearers sparring within. Jax was situated on one side, shouting with the rest of them. But he was one of the last to quiet and turn as her presence was noted.
“Major Jax.” Vhalla swallowed the silence between them before it became far too obvious. “Could I perhaps join in a spar or two?”
He stared at her a long moment, looking her up and down. Where Vhalla expected the average Westerner to look disapproving at her relaxed and more masculine clothing, she found Jax’s stare appreciative.
“If the lady wants a spar, than a spar she will get!” Jax’s voice had not changed at all. It was back to how she’d always heard it: jovial, jesting, and entertained with the nature of existence. “Which one of you wants the honor of going against the first Windwalker in nearly a century and a half?”
No one moved. No one seemed able to look at her. And, most certainly, no one volunteered.
“Come now,” Jax encouraged. “Ren, you’re up!”
The man who Jax tasked with this duty appeared to be of Northern descent. Vhalla assessed him as she was helped into a leather jerkin, coated in something sweet smelling. She recognized the greenish sheen as something the Northerners used to protect against Firebearers.
“Ready?” Jax called. Vhalla gave a definitive nod, but Ren gave a hesitant glance. “Go!”
Vhalla wasted no time, and the man was on his back in an instant. Vhalla stared dumbly as Ren stood, gave a bow, and quickly retreated from the ring.
There hadn’t been a single spark of fire, chill of ice, or rumble of earth. Vhalla frowned. He’d not tried to attack her in any way.
The next soldier Jax threw at her acted much the same. A quick start and quick finish left her uncomfortable. As the dust settled atop the third, Vhalla couldn’t contain herself any longer.
“Why won’t you spar with me?” she demanded of the woman who pulling herself off the ground.
“What?”
“What was that?” Vhalla persisted. “You didn’t even fight back.”
“I-I-I . . . your prowess is such that none of us could hope to match.” The woman retreated awkwardly, eager to escape the ring.
Vhalla’s arms dropped limply to her sides. They were letting her win. Vhalla had been through war and had trained under a multitude of soldiers, but she no longer had the Bond to draw from, and these people had been soldiers the majority of their adult lives. Vhalla should at least have to struggle against them.
“Oh, this just won’t do,” Jax admonished. “You sorry lot have done the worst thing someone can manage: disappoint a pretty lady.” He pointed across the pit toward something Vhalla couldn’t see. “Fritz! You’re needed.”
Vhalla’s heart soared from just hearing her friend’s name. The second he actually stepped into the ring, Vhalla was nearly tackling him in an overpowering embrace. She wondered if Jax had figured out her mental state upon entering the training grounds.
“Vhal, it’s only been two days since I last saw you,” Fritz laughed.
“It feels like forever,” Vhalla insisted.
“Well, now I’m going to beat you up!” Her friend grinned.
“You can try!” she retorted playfully. “Jax, thank you; this is exactly what I needed.”