[TAKES PLACE DURING POWERLESS]

• • •

Sweat pools at the small of my back.

Panting, I bend over and rest my hands on my knees, my heart slamming against my ribcage in synchrony with the arrows piercing targets somewhere off to my left.

Unlike my future contestants — who occupy the training circles sprinkled over the grounds — I've dedicated the day to sprinting.

As I recover from my seventh lap around the palace, I greedily gulp down air. Staggering to my feet, I steady myself with a nearby tree branch.

The effort is futile, however.

"Care for a refreshment?" The deep voice nearly startles my balance into a fall. And so does the familiar prince that appears from behind the tree I was just using.

One of Kai's brow is quirked, imitating a raised hand that offers a tall glass of lemonade. It's laughable, really, with its lemon slice spearing the rim and tiny umbrella decorating the ice cubes sitting on top.

I eye both the man and his offering. Scrutinizingly.

"Gail's specialty," he explains.

I continue looking the drink over.

"It's not poisoned, if that's what you're assuming." Kai flashes a crooked grin as he approaches, careful not to spill the drink. "Besides," he adds, extending the glass towards me, "there would be much funner ways to kill you."

I scoff, disgusted at his word choice. Even if he was just teasing, I hate that he associated the word fun with murder.

I eye the glass for the better part of a minute before my dehydration wins out. I figure that even if he's lying, dying from a poison is a rather merciful death. In this world, at least.

So I snatch the glass and down it in one gulp, leaving only the ice cubes, lemon slice, and parachute.

Kai chokes on a laugh.

Smirking, I place the glass back in his hand, which hasn't even had the time to fall back to his side. "Give Gail my thanks."

"What about me?"

"What about you?"

"Well." Kai rests a hand on a tree branch above his head, shamelessly showing off his biceps. "I charge a delivery fee."

I scowl. "Unfortunately for you," I respond, flattening a hand over my coin-barren pockets, "I'm broke."

"Money wasn't what I had in mind." His eyes linger too long my lips before he painstakingly adds, "I'd like a tutoring session."

I can't help my snort. "Tutoring? For what? And if it's on how to be an arrogant prick," I say, resting my hands on my hips, "I'm afraid you've already got that mastered."

His smile doesn't waver. "Among other things."

I snort. "Such as?"

"Flirting, swordplay, sweeping maidens off their feet — the works." He sighs dramatically, clutching his heart.

Incredibly humble, as always.

"As a matter of fact," he adds, "I have everything mastered, except for one thing."

"Being modest?" I guess.

He smirks and shakes his head, correcting me with a simple word: "Knives."

Quirking a brow, I cross my arms. "You're fine with a dagger."

"Up close," he replies, "and specifically in self defense. What I'm not good at, Gray, is hitting objects far away." He takes my shoulders and whirls me to face the row of archery targets on the east side of the grounds.

Thankfully, the field of grass is vacant, although several contestants linger in nearby training rings, forming a cacophony of swords clashing and shouting.

Squeezing my eyes shut tight, I force out an annoyed agreement. Not because I want to, but because I know the prince will pester me until he gets what he wants.

An arrogant prick indeed.

As Kai and I approach the targets, I notice with distain that Blair has noticed us.

Figures.

With my luck, she'll probably reverse the fly of a dagger and send it boomeranging back to my heart.

Kai, on the other hand, seems undeterred by Blair. He reaches into his pocket and removes a silver dagger slightly larger than mine.

From my pocket, I remove five of them.

Kai barks out a laugh.

"What?" I demand.

"One isn't enough for you?"

I hold the blades in one hand and place the other on my hip. "Safety precautions," I retort, throwing a glance at Blair, who still watches us coldly. Beneath my breath, I mutter, "They come in handy with her around." I toss a glance back at the prince, smirking. "And you."

Kai snorts.

Blair returns to training with the other opponents, but continues sneaking glances at us as I gleefully lecture the prince on his mistakes.

First, he raises his dagger in a white-knuckled fist.

He sends it barreling forward. Although it's a steady, fluid throw, the knife buries itself in the dirt a few feet before it reaches the target.

I smirk.

Kai scowls.

Offering him another knife, I say, "You're holding it wrong."

"This is how I always hold it," he mutters.

I tap the fist he's closed again around the knife. "Clutching it," I say, "is only useful if you're planning to stab someone."

"Don't give me any ideas," he mutters under his breath. At first, I think he's threatening me. But Kai's darkened gaze lingers on Blair — not me.

I bite back a laugh.

I'll admit, it's nice that I'm not the only one who despises her. Even if it's a haughty prince.

To keep my lips from twitching up, I instruct the prince on his hand placement. "Hold it like a dart."

He complies, although not without a struggle. His hands are stronger but much less agile than mine.

I move to his side. "Thumb below," I say, adjusting his hand, "and other fingers on top."

I lift myself on tiptoe to ensure that he's done it correctly. Just then, Kai tilts his head, and I freeze as his lips nearly brush my cheek.

The prince doesn't appear apologetic. As a matter of fact, he's trying not to smile.

"Can I throw it now?" he asks, moving his gaze forward.

"Yes," I huff, struggling to catch my breath.

Kai lets the dagger fly, and this time, it hits the middle target. Not quite a bullseye, but only a couple rings off. Grinning, he glances back at me for validation.

I feign disinterest. "Not bad — for an amateur."

He raises a brow and extends a hand. I place another knife in his palm.

Smiling, he positions his hands, spaces his legs shoulder-width apart, and hurls the blade.

This time, it spears the target one ring closer than before.

Kai smirks, pleased with himself.

Although I'm impressed, I don't show it.

For the next several minutes, I hand him daggers and let him pelt the targets. Eventually he manages to get a bullseye. And only once he gets three consecutively does the prince call it quits.

Kai glances at the array of daggers decorating the center target, and then back at me. "It's your turn to get them."

I frown.

We've been switching off collecting the knives. And unfortunately, the prince is right — it is my turn.

I bite back an argument.

I've already tried quarreling. Several times.

As I jog the stretch of grass, I pass Ace and Braxton dueling with golden-edged swords. Off to the side, Blair watches, a mischievous grin on her face.

I roll my eyes.

She's downright bloodthirsty.

Crouching, I yank free a dagger embedded in the dirt.

"Gray . . ." I hear Kai's voice several feet back.

I wave my hand in dismissal, too focused on my task to pay the arrogant prince any more attention than I've already expended.

The other knives are all lodged in the target several feet ahead, so I dust the dirt off my leggings and begin to get to my feet . . .

"Paedyn!" I barely hear Kai's warning before glancing up to see a sword barreling towards me — preceding a smirking Blair and an empty-handed Braxton.

I stumble back, tripping. A pair of strong arms yank me downward, hard. What I land on isn't the ground, but just as solid.

Muscle.

Kai only lets me rest on his chest for a split second before rolling me over to inspect my injuries. Fortunately, I don't have any. Physically, at least.

His eyes rake over me, searching.

I breathe out, still shocked. My arms won't move. After a few moments, I realize it's because Kai has pinned them to the dirt.

"I'm fine," I insist, struggling to free myself.

He breathes deeply. Then, collapses beside me.

This time, I inspect him.

Although he's bleeding, it's only from our collision.

The sword that Blair sent flying towards me lays in the dirt several inches away. Only when I see that no blood coats it do my shoulders relax.

Through my fogged consciousness, I hear Ace gloat about disarming his opponent, and Blair — of course — takes the credit. Braxton yells at both of them.

Not at all concerned about me.

Typical.

After Kai has caught his breath, he rolls onto his side to face me. Glancing darkly at Blair, he mutters, "I'm going to murder her."

I roll to face him. We're so close that our chests nearly touch. Our lips, too. For once, I don't pull away.

And for once, we're in agreement.

I even smile as I say, "And I'm going to help you."