A Marriage of Swords
ergnrmtchapter 21 miladymadam malkin's robes for all occasions
It smelled of damp stone, old hay, and solitude.
Makil was already there, warming up with a series of fluid stretches that further betrayed his training. He wore similar clothes to yesterday, and two practice longswords were thrust into the ground at the center of the yard.
Leigh arrived silently, a shadow detaching from the deeper shadows of the archway. She'd re-braided her hair tightly. She said nothing, simply walked to the center, pulled one sword from the earth, and tested its weight.
"No rules," Makil said, pulling the other. "First to yield, or be disarmed."