Hurrying to her private bathroom — another luxury, particularly the hot running water — she went about her business, admiring the gold and pearl tones of the room. Her bedroom had the same color scheme, as did the rest of the palace, all of it elegant, classy, and peaceful.
After splashing water onto her face, Kiva grabbed a pair of boots and left her bedroom, moving into the sitting room at the center of her suite. The space was simple but comfortable, with large windows looking out at the river, a door opposite her room leading straight into Tipp’s bedroom, and another door opening into the palace hallway.
“That was six minutes,” Caldon drawled from the couch. “I’m adding a minute to your training.”
“About this ‘training’ —” Kiva started.
“Nope,” Caldon interrupted, jumping up and shooing her toward the door. “It’s already decided. I get you first thing every morning, rain, hail, or shine. No arguments.”
While Kiva had no desire to partake in whatever he had planned, she also knew it was something she shouldn’t miss, especially since she was meant to be gathering information. Zuleeka and Torell would have her hide if they learned she’d let this opportunity pass her by. Zuleeka, especially.
The palace was large enough that it took Kiva and Caldon some time to reach the ground floor, after which they stepped outside and kept a brisk pace to ward off the cool morning air. Caldon hummed merrily under his breath as they approached the barracks, an impressive compound with sleeping quarters for the guards, a mess hall, a small infirmary, a stable, an armory, and even a weapons forge complete with on-site blacksmith. At the very center stood the expansive training yard, the grassy area sweeping out beyond the barracks and deeper into the palace grounds.
As they approached the training yard, Kiva marveled at how many people were already out practicing unarmed combat, swordplay, archery, dagger throwing, and countless other lethal practices.
Naari was, for once, not watching Jaren like a hawk, and instead was shooting arrows into targets an impossible distance away, one after the other, reloading her bow so fast that her hands were a blur.
Jaren was also in the yard, his sweat-slicked shirt indicating he’d been there for some time. Only six weeks earlier, he’d barely been able to move, let alone spar with anyone, but their extended stay at the winter palace had healed all the injuries he’d sustained inside the prison. His quick, powerful movements showed just how swiftly he’d returned to health, with him currently facing off in a robust clash of swords against the formidable Captain Veris.
Kiva couldn’t keep her eyes off the crown prince. There was just something so compelling about him, something so addictive about watching the way he moved, the graceful, strong lines of his body, the intense focus, the perfect —
“You’ve got a little drool happening. Right there.”
Kiva shoved Caldon’s hand away and scowled at him. Attempting to cover her embarrassment, she grumbled, “Why are so many people up at this ungodly hour?”
“This may come as a shock, but there’s an entire world of people who start their day before eight a.m.,” Caldon commented dryly. Nudging her forward, he added, “I think it’s best if we keep a certain someone out of your direct line of sight, or we’ll never get anything done.”
Kiva remained silent, trying to keep some small shred of dignity intact.
Leading her to the far side of the training yard, Caldon finally came to a stop at an empty space near the corner and said, “Wait here, I’ll be back.”
He took off, leaving Kiva to watch a group of guards sparring close enough for her to marvel at their quick, daring moves. The sight catapulted her back to the bloodthirsty riot in Zalindov, where the inmates had taken up arms against the prison guards. Their laboring tools had been used as weapons; unwieldy pickaxes, hammers, and chisels fighting against much more lethal blades. Even now, Kiva could picture it vividly, her palms turning clammy as she recalled the screams, the blood, the death.
Sucking in a breath, Kiva wiped her hands on her leggings and willed her heartbeat to settle. She’d only just managed to calm down when Caldon came up behind her and dropped a wooden box on the ground, causing her to jump, her pulse racing anew.
The prince cocked an eyebrow at her overreaction, but then his features softened as he took in her pale face, as if he understood what memories were battling for her attention. To her relief, he didn’t comment on it, only saying, “Let’s start with some stretches.”