After a while, Haitham introduced another training to her schedule. Sword training.

  Her training alternated between reading in the library in the morning and sword practice after a short break after lunch.

  “You never know what might happen,” he had said. “Better have another trick up your sleeve for when your powers fail you.”

  He cut a branch with a snap of his dagger and made it into a makeshift sword. “Watch closely,” he instructed.

  The stick danced in his hand as he twisted it around. Daliya’s excitement nose-dived in the seconds it took Haitham to perform his basic sword form. Her eyes roved upward to gather her wits, pausing on a branch that hung lower than the others.

  Was he joking? He better be. There was no way he was expecting her to perform such a complicated sword style that she only thought possible in movies.

  The branch fell from her grasp with the first spin. She picked it up, huffing, and tried once, twice, then a third time before throwing it on the ground, stomping her feet in what she would have denied to be a tantrum.

  “This is not working,” she hissed. “I can’t do it.”

  He jabbed the stick with the tip of his boots and launched it in the air, snatching it before it fell again.

  “Alright. We’ll start with fifty downward slashes, fifty upward slashes, and another fifty side slashes.”

  “One hundred and fifty?” She gawked at him. “My arms would fall off before reaching the first fifty mark!”

  His lips twitched. “We’ll increase the numbers as we go.”

  “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” She scowled.

  He grinned. “Oh, you have no idea.” He clapped his hands. “Now, stop dilly-dallying and get back to work. The sun will set soon. You still have to do today’s slashes before you can call it a day.”

  Daliya slashed the stick, imagining it had struck Haitham’s head with each strike.

  Daliya sat heavily on the garden’s marble floor, her makeshift sword abandoned next to her feet. A bonfire lit from the many branches littering the floor. Daliya huddled before its warm flames despite not being troubled by the freezing weather. Haitham sat next to her, a blissful expression apparent on his face. Occasionally, he would flicker his fingers at the flames, reigniting them.

  “Where are my tea parties? My royal balls? My promenades around the royal garden?” she lamented. “Since I came here, all I ever did was train, train, and train some more.”

  “Tea party? The emperor is the only one daring enough to invite the princess to a tea party.” He raised an eyebrow, mocking her. “Are you sure you want to have a tea party with him?”

  She grimaced. “Maybe not him.”

  She had no desire to see this world’s infamous tyrant. He might not be her killer, but she doubted he would be pleasant to share a cup of hot tea and biscuits with.

  “Doesn’t the princess have a sibling or something?”

  He shook his head. “Better this way, believe me. The emperor would have gotten rid of her—of you—if she did. His patience for her is already stretched thin.”

  “As if he couldn’t just get rid of me now.”

  He shrugged. “True.”

  She sighed mournfully. “Too bad. I had wanted to have a sibling or two. Once an only child, always an only child, I guess.”

  “You’re an only child?” he leaned forward, his chin resting on his curled fist.

  “Well, technically, no. I have other siblings from my father’s side, but I’ve never met them, not officially. I’ve seen pictures, though, a sister and a brother.”

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  “Why? Didn’t you live together?”

  She paused, a rueful smile on her lips. “After my Mom’s death, he started his own family and left me to live with Grandma. He used to send me a gift on my birthday every year. Till those eventually stopped.” She shifted. “It was fine, though. Grandma was a good cook. Every year, she would make me a birthday cake, a chocolate cake. It was delicious.” Tiny snowflakes took shape around her fingers. They floated a couple of inches before falling flat on her palm. The smile dimmed as she continued, “She died a year ago. A week before my birthday. Her chest pains suddenly intensified. I found her lying next to the shopping bag. She had just gotten the ingredients for the cake. I took her to the hospital, but it was too late. A heart attack.” She looked at the faint smoke wafting from the bonfire. “She was suffering from chest pain for the past month. I told her to go see a doctor, but she insisted it was fine.” She clenched her fist, crushing the snowflakes. “I should have insisted more.”

  “I’m sorry for your Grandma.” Haitham’s voice was gentle.

  She shook her head, her hand hastily rubbing over her eyes. “It’s fine.” She smiled.

  They stayed quiet for a while, watching the flames dance before them.

  “I’m an only child, too,” Haitham said. “I had cousins, but they were older than me. No matter how much I bugged them to play with me, they would brush me off, claiming they had a more important duty than playing with a six-year-old. One day, I set their hair on fire in front of the whole gathering in one of their ‘important meeting.’”

  Daliya choked. “What? You’re a menace.”

  He shrugged. “I’ll let you know, I was a nice kid. I was only mean to those who deserved it.”

  She snorted. “You mean those who didn’t cater to your whims and wishes.”

  He grinned. “You catch up fast. I guess you know what to do now.”

  She lifted her arm, and ice spikes emerged near his feet. She grinned back. “Oh, you bet.”

  He scoffed. With a snap of his fingers, flames enveloped the ice, melting it into a puddle. Some gathered into a small puddle near her feet. Daliya pulled her knees against her chest, circling her arms around them, watching as the water solidified. She sighed. “I can’t wait till the summer season comes around.”

  He frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve had enough of all this snow. Some colors wouldn’t be amiss.”

  He gave her a look. “We’re in the summer season. In fact, it’s the peak of summer this week.”

  It took a couple of seconds for his words to register. She gawked at him, disbelieving. “You’re joking!”

  “It’s the truth.”

  “Then why is there snow here?” She motioned around. She fisted a handful of snow and let it fall through her finger like sand.

  “This place is closer to the Northern Lands.” He motioned with his head towards the mountain range in the distance. “I heard they have snow blizzards all year long.” He watched the snow crushed under his boots with no small amount of distaste. “Consider yourself lucky you don’t have to suffer from all this cold.”

  “Why don’t you use your powers to melt all the snow off?”

  “And use up all my Essence? Thanks, no thanks. I’m fine.”

  She shrugged.

  He snapped his fingers, and the fire roared, the flames lifting several feet from the burning branches.

  Daliya looked around the garden and winced at the disaster that was once a beautiful, well-kept garden. Scratches from the ice spikes she had summoned littered the ground from all her training, and many of the trees were missing their branches. She should take some time off to tidy things up. “You think the princess would be furious at what became of her precious garden?”

  “Oh, please. She must be ecstatic at escaping certain death. She must be dancing under the rain, celebrating a chance at a good life.”

  Daliya grimaced. “I wouldn’t call it exactly a good life. I think she’s already regretting her choices.”

  “Why? Just how chaotic was your life?”

  “I’m still a university student with no degree to my name. If she didn’t know how to scrub dishes clean and sweep the floor, I’m afraid she would be homeless soon.”

  Haitham frowned. “Is leading a decent life in your world that hard?”

  She snorted a laugh. “You have no idea. Everything is expensive. Even clean air is costly.”

  He gave an exaggerated body shiver. “Then I’m glad you’re here. You can eat all the food you desire and breathe all the freezing air you want.”

  “On condition I survive long enough.”

  “Ah, true that.” He shrugged. He paused for a moment. “If nothing works. You’re welcome to the South. You’ll be an honorary guest. We might not have luxurious beds or expensive food, but you’ll have me.” He winked. “I’ll even tell you bedtime stories when you can’t sleep.”

  She leaned over her bent legs, her head tilted towards him. “Quite tempting.”

  “I know.” He grinned. “That’s what I’m always told.”

  She laughed. “Did you have them at Dagger Point?”

  He frowned, though it looked more like a pout than anything. “You’re being mean now.”

  Her frame shook with the intensity of her laughter. “Oh, no. My hair!”

  He raised his hand and gently ran his fingers over her silvery strands. “Nah, it would be a shame. They’re too pretty to burn.”

  Daliya coughed, startled. She could feel sudden heat travel up and cover her whole face. The infuriating man grinned at her, mirth and amusement twinkling in his eyes.

  This little…