Throne of Glass (Throne of Glass #1) by Sarah J. Maas

The princess clasped the assassin on the shoulder, and said something to the girl that made her laugh. Dorian looked around. Where was Chaol or Brullo? Why was Adarlan’s Assassin here with the Princess of Eyllwe? And with a sword! This could not go on, especially after that Champion’s attempted escape the other day.

Dorian approached, and smiled at the princess as he bowed. Nehemia only deigned to give him a terse nod. Not surprising. Dorian took Celaena’s hand. It smelled of metal and sweat, but he kissed it anyway, raising his eyes to her face as he did so. “Lady Lillian,” he muttered onto her skin.

“Your Highness,” she said, trying to pull her hand from his. But Dorian held fast to her calloused palm.

“Might I have a word?” he said, leading her away before she could agree. When they were out of hearing distance, he demanded, “Where’s Chaol?”

She crossed her arms. “Is this any way to speak to your beloved Champion?”

He frowned. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know. If I were to bet, though, I’d wager that he’s inspecting the Eye Eater’s mangled corpse, or disposing of Sven’s body. Besides, Brullo said I could stay here as long as I liked after we were done. I do have another Test tomorrow, you know.”

Of course he knew. “Why is Princess Nehemia here?”

“She called on me, and when Philippa told her I was here, she insisted on joining. Apparently, a woman can only go so long without a sword between her hands.” She bit her lip.

“I don’t recall you being so talkative.”

“Well, perhaps if you’d taken the time to speak with me, you’d have found me to be so.”

He snorted, but took the bait, gods damn him. “And when would have I spoken to you?”

“You do recall the little fact that we traveled together from Endovier, don’t you? And that I’ve been here for weeks now.”

“I sent you those books,” he offered.

“And did you ever ask me if I had read them?”

Had she forgotten to whom she was speaking? “I’ve spoken to you once since we’ve been here.”

She shrugged and made to turn away. Irritated, but slightly curious, he grabbed her arm. Her turquoise eyes glittered as she stared at his hand, and his heart quickened when her gaze rose to his face. Yes, sweaty as she was, she was beautiful.

“Aren’t you afraid of me?” She glanced at his sword belt. “Or are you as deft at handling your sword as Captain Westfall?”

He stepped closer, tightening his grip. “Better,” he whispered in her ear. There: she was blushing and blinking.

“Well,” she began, but the timing was off. He’d won. She crossed her arms. “Very amusing, Your Highness.”

He bowed dramatically. “I do what I can. But you can’t have Princess Nehemia here with you.”

“And why is that? Do you believe I’m going to kill her? Why would I kill the one person in this castle who isn’t a babbling idiot?” She gave him a look that suggested he was part of the majority. “Not to mention, her guards would kill me before I even lifted a hand.”

“It simply can’t happen. She’s here to learn our customs, not to spar.”

“She’s a princess. She can do what she likes.”

“And I suppose you’re going to teach her about weaponry?”

She cocked her head. “Perhaps you’re just a little bit afraid of me.”

“I’ll escort her back to her chambers.”

She gestured widely for him to pass. “Wyrd help you.”

He ran a hand through his black hair and approached the princess, who waited for them with a hand on her hip. “Your Highness,” Dorian said, motioning to her personal guard to join them. “I’m afraid we must return you to your chambers.”

The princess looked behind his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. To his dismay, Celaena began speaking in Eyllwe to the princess, who stomped her staff. She hissed something at him. Dorian’s skill with the Eyllwe language was spotty at best, and the princess spoke too fast for him to understand. Thankfully, the assassin translated.

“She says you can return to your cushions and dancing and leave us be,” Celaena said.

He tried his best to look serious. “Tell her it’s unacceptable for her to spar.”

Celaena said something, to which the princess only waved a hand and strode past them and onto the sparring floor.

“What did you say?” Dorian said.

“I said you volunteered to be her first partner,” she said. “Well? You don’t want to upset the princess.”

“I will not spar with the princess.”

“Would you rather spar with me?”

“Perhaps if we had a private lesson in your chambers,” he said smoothly. “Tonight.”

“I’ll be waiting.” She curled her hair around a finger.

The princess twirled her staff with strength and precision that made him gulp. Deciding that he didn’t feel like having the daylights walloped out of him, he walked to the rack of weapons and selected two wooden swords. “How about some basic swordplay instead?” he asked Nehemia. To his relief, the princess nodded and handed her staff to one of her guards, then took the practice sword Dorian extended to her. Celaena would not make a fool out of him!