“How was my form, Prince?” she pants, lips bloody. “Any critiques now?” Her weight presses down on me and I huff out a laugh. “I have a few notes.” “Likewise.” Her hand flashes to her boot, sliding a thin blade from the worn leather. “For starters, I don’t appreciate my opponents going easy on me.” She gently drags the knife’s tip across my cheekbone, tickling my skin.
