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Fourteen - Defying Tradition

RPOV—One Month Later

Cesarevich Dimitri's silver sword narrowly missed my head as I ducked late. I could hear the sound of pure metal swiping against air, and my heart thundered in my chest while I laboriously breathed. His dark brown eyes pierced mine, and sweat poured down both of our bodies as if we were melting. Strands of lighter hair were plastered to his face. "Focus, Rose," he demanded.

Nodding, I quickly recovered and gathered my strength, gripping my sword in my hands. The ornate hilt felt warm and slippery underneath my skin, but I imagined that the blade was as cold as ice. Cesarevich Dimitri and I circled for a while, until he found an opportunity and swung at my open side; however, I saw it coming and blocked, pushing his sword back.

"Good," he commented, his intense gaze brightening and lean body relaxing. Then, it darkened and he fell back into the instructor's mindset. "But I know you can do more than that, Rose. Take advantage of your potential." I nodded, then conce
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