“So you’re the Saint of Swords, eh?” She let her gaze drift from his face to his hands to his feet and back again. “I’m finding it hard to be impressed.” “Four moves,” Kest said. “What?” “You’re wondering if you could take me. You’d last four moves.” “Well then,” she said, smiling innocently and reaching a hand out to touch his chest. “Suppose I take you in your sleep?” “I took that for granted when I said four. Did you want to know how long you’d last if you didn’t take me by surprise?”
