Priscilla was given enough time to stretch.

  But soon she and Sulaiman stepped away from the fire and both got into a ready position with their arms raised. Priscilla bounced back and forth a few times to keep her blood pumping as Sulaiman stayed perfectly still. Kavil had adopted a faux serious face as he began to count down, like he was announcing a championship match.

  “Three,”

  Kavil raised his hand in the air.

  “Two.”

  Priscilla gave Sulaiman a grin, excited beyond words.

  “One!”

  Sulaiman narrowed his eyes, his fists going tight.

  “Go!”

  Sulaiman went for the first hit the moment Kavil’s hand fell, a right hook aiming towards Priscilla’s shoulder. She ducked down, saying, “Come on, aim for my torso if you wanna an easy target.”

  Priscilla followed her own advice, dodging another jab from Sulaiman to slip past his guard and achieves a glancing blow against his ribs, but a blow nonetheless.

  “One,” Priscilla taunted.

  Sulaiman grunted and then, quick as a whip, jabbed forward with his left hand. Priscilla dodged it, just for it to turn out to be a feint, and Sulaiman’s right fist caught her in the stomach. Though it was a firm hit and partially knocked the breath from Priscilla, it didn’t feel like it did last damage, which told her Sulaiman was pulling his punches.

  Priscilla laughed as she put distance between them again. “Atta boy!”

  It seemed that Sulaman didn’t appreciate her encouragement and went on the offensive once more.

  There was a rhythm to it, a little like dancing.

  Priscilla dodged and weaved around the blows, watching Sulaiman’s hips and legs to predict what he’ll do next. Sulaiman’s stance would tighten before he went for a stronger cross hit, so Priscilla had loosened her own to quickly duck underneath away. He frowned and the way his hip moved signaled that Sulaiman was about to do a left hook, the direction Priscilla had been moving in, but was now moving backwards, his fist missing her face by inches.

  It was obvious that Sulaiman had some experience fighting in close combat, but he’d never been formally trained. His steps were sure and solid, like those he used while he was wielding his sword rather than the more nimble movements Priscilla used to stay just out of reach. Sulaiman’s reach was better than hers, but Priscilla was quicker and used to battling against people who were taller than her from Mr. ––.

  Priscilla had gotten a feel of Sulaiman’s fighting style now, and saw a path to victory.

  He overextended himself just a tad when Priscilla had already moved out of his reach, anticipating his move, and Priscilla capitalized on it, getting a solid blow to Sulaiman’s the opposite side of his upper chest. But Sulaiman’s reflexes proved just how good they were, and he hit Priscilla’s hip with his knee.

  Priscilla darted back out Sulaiman’s reach before he could attack again. There’d definitely be a bruise on her hip but it didn’t affect her movement too badly. Sulaiman hadn’t used his legs before this, and that gave an added layer of things to watch out for.

  “Two for both of you,” Kavil called.

  Priscilla couldn’t help the grin on her face as her heart rate picked up from the simple thrill of a good fight. Adrenaline was pumping through her veins, making her limbs feel loose and ready for anything, but life or death wasn’t on the line.

  Just pride.

  All that was left was to deliver the finishing blow.

  Sulaiman was good at retaliating, but all Priscilla needed was one more hit and she’d win.

  Priscilla finally took the initiative, rushing forward to Sulaiman’s right. Sulaiman frowned, bringing up his arms to protect his torso as he watched her hands.

  But he was looking in the wrong place.

  At the last second, Priscilla darted to the left, hooking her leg around his ankle to tip him backwards in the middle of reacting while his stance was unsteady. As he fell, Sulaiman grabbed onto Priscilla’s shirt at the last second and dragged her down with him.

  Twisting in the air, Priscilla ended up straddling Sulaiman’s hips, pinning his free arm against the ground near his head. But Sulaiman hadn’t let go of Priscilla’s shirt during the fall and had her pulled close. Her ponytail fell over her shoulder, dangling near Sulaiman’s ear and her braids nearly brushed against his forehead. They were both breathing hard as the fire crackled, and they both took a moment to catch their breath. This close Priscilla could see how long Sulaiman’s lashes were as he glared through them and she could even spot a mole on his neck that was normally hidden by his collar.

  “I win,” Priscilla said, smiling like the cat who caught the canary, “got you pinned.”

  “I wouldn’t call this a pin,” Sulaiman said. “I could get up at any time, but you–” Sulaiman flexed his grip, “–you’re not going anywhere until I let go of you.”

  Priscilla laughed, throwing her head back as much as she could with Sulaiman’s grip on her. It wasn’t far as Sulaiman pulled her back down with a glare to prove his point.

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  “Kavil, what’s the verdict?” Priscilla asked, looking at Kavil, who was watching them with wide eyes. Sulaiman turned as well, just as interested in Kavil’s decision.

  Kavil blinked a few times quickly, glancing between the two expectant faces with a conflicted expression.

  “I think it’s Priscilla?” Kavil said, unsure. “You knocked Sulaiman down first.”

  Sulaiman’s grip loosened and he sighed morosely as his hand hit the ground while Priscilla cheered, raising her hands in victory.

  “Looks I ended up beating your ass after all,” Priscilla said with a grin, unable to contain how happy winning made her as she danced in place.

  Sulaiman glared at her and grabbed her by the hips, hissing, “Stop gloating.”

  “Gloating is a winner’s prerogative,” Priscilla said, leaning over so he had a great view of her smugly triumphant smile. It felt good to win, especially when Priscilla knew this was probably the only way she was going to best an opponent like Sulaiman, who was so much taller and stronger than her and was far deadlier than her with a weapon.

  Sulaiman responded by lifting Priscilla up by the hips and tossing her to the side. She squeaked as she hit the ground on the hip he hit and glared at Sulaiman, who looked unbothered by it as he sat up, shaking his head free of grass.

  Priscilla planned on pouting on the ground for a good while but after he had stood up and brushed off his pants, Sulaiman stuck out a hand in her direction to help her up, raising one judgmental eyebrow when she didn’t immediately take it. The sportsmanlike move took the wind out of Priscilla’s sails. She sighed and took his hand, and he easily hauled Priscilla to her feet, grip firm.

  “Let me take a look at you two,” Kavil said, having stood up and moved closer while Priscilla dusted the grass off herself. Kavil’s hands brushed down Sulaiman’s pectoral muscle where Priscilla hit him while he gently wrapped his hand around Priscilla’s hip. Light flared from both hands and Priscilla let out a pleased sigh as the ache disappeared to nothing.

  “Now that you’ve had a demonstration, Kavil,” Priscilla said once Kavil had finished, “why don’t I teach you how to throw a punch yourself?”

  Kavil seemed taken aback by that suggestion, and looked to Sulaiman for help. But Sulaiman was already nodding, stepping aside to give them space.

  “Knowing how to punch properly is an essential skill,” Sulaiman said, ignoring Kavil’s pleading look, “as you need nothing but your fists and it’ll work on most opponents.”

  Kavil sighed heavily. “Alright, what do I need to know?”

  “Firstly,” Priscilla said, “make a tight fist.”

  Kavil obliged but Priscilla was shaking her head, grabbing his hand so she could manipulate his body as necessary. “No, not like that, make sure your thumb is outside your fingers unless you want to break it.”

  Priscilla ran her fingers over his wrist and up his arm. “Keep the back of your hand parallel with your forearm or you can break your wrist. When you go to hit, focus on making contact with your pointer and middle finger first, because leading with the ring and pinky can end up with those being broken.”

  “There’s a lot of potential broken bones,” Kavil muttered and Priscilla chuckled.

  “True, but that’s why I’m teaching you properly,” Priscilla said, coming to the front of Kavil. “Keep your shoulders square with your body and your feet firmly planted. When I get more used to it, I’ll teach you how to punch while moving.”

  Priscilla put up her hands. “Now try to throw a few soft practice punches at my palms. Keep your body loose and focus on pivoting your hips and making good contact with my hand. Power can come later once you understand the form.”

  Kavil looked hesitant but sent a slow punch forward, his hand coming to gently hit her palm.

  “Good,” Priscilla said. “Remember, keep your wrist straight and that your entire body needs to be in sync when you move. Again.”

  For the next ten minutes, Priscilla coached Kavil through the proper forms, calling upon her first memories of taking her classes that made her feel nostalgic. By the end, Kavil had a basic understanding of what to do, but he was sweating as Priscilla insisted he punch again and again slowly. His arms must be aching from using muscles he wasn’t used to, which was why Priscilla bid him to go get some water, promising to give him another lesson tomorrow. Kavil eagerly took the out and made a beeline to his water skin.

  “You’re a good teacher,” Sulaiman said after stepping forward, something a little unreadable in his voice. He had been passive while they practiced, and Priscilla had been able tune out his persistent gaze to focus on Kavil.

  “Don’t sound so surprised,” Priscilla said, tossing her hair. “I’m good at most things I put my mind to.”

  Sulaiman didn’t roll his eyes like she expected, his black eyes lingering on Priscilla so long that she started to feel self-conscious. There was something a little heavy about his unreadable gaze, like he was contemplating something and Priscilla somehow sat at the center of it all, or at least that’s what it felt like when Sulaiman met her eyes. He couldn’t be angry that she beat him, could he? He was petty, but surely he wasn’t that petty.

  “What?” Priscilla said, crossing her arms She inwardly screamed at how tentative that single word came out a little less confident than she had planned it, but tried to not let it show on her face.

  The smile that bloomed on Sulaiman’s face was surprising with how captivating it was as he leaned forward, a hand reaching up towards her face. Priscilla stilled, eyes wide because surely he wasn’t about to k– surely, he wouldn’t, not in front of Kavil, not when he hadn’t shown any of that type of interest in Priscilla before this, but maybe the shock of Illnyea being in danger fried his brain so he was making bad decisions? If he really was doing what she thought he was, will Priscilla even try to dodge it?

  Paralyzed with indecision, Priscilla did nothing as Sulaiman’s hand caught the lock of hair framing her face.

  “You have grass in your hair,” Sulaiman said, running deft fingers through her hair. He lingered for a moment in her space, just smirking at her.

  Priscilla’s face was burning red, she just knew it, because she made such a stupid assumption when it was obvious that Sulaiman wasn’t going to kiss her, it was all her over active imagination when an attractive man entered her space. Priscilla laughed nervously as she took a step back.

  Priscilla reached up to actually check her hair this time as she said, “O–oh, thanks, totally missed that. Damn plant got everywhere when you tossed me on the ground.”

  There was silence between them as Priscilla couldn’t bring herself to look at Sulaiman when her face was so red.

  “I’m going to check on Kavil,” Priscilla said abruptly, “and make sure he’s hydrating well.”

  She was not fleeing, Priscilla told herself firmly as she turned around, she was making a tactical retreat to not make a bigger fool of herself.

  Kavil welcomed her presence, perking up as she plopped next to and asked, “Do you have any questions?”

  He did have a few and Priscilla latched onto a topic she felt infinitely more confident about.

  Later, when Priscilla was changing, she silently despaired as Asha quietly made fun of Priscilla about her lack of smoothness, as the artifact had been near enough to see the exchange. The only comfort Priscilla could find refuge in was at least Asha was feeling good enough to tease her again.

  ...

  (Next to Priscilla, Kavil had a very difficult time falling asleep that night.)

  (He had many new realizations to think on, the least of which was the supremely embarrassing thoughts that flooded his brain when the spar ended earlier. He hadn’t been able to banish it as easily as some of his other questionable thoughts.)

  (Sweet Gaelea, I wish I was between them.)