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After a while Katsa forgot about defiance. It became too difficult to imagine.
“If there’s anyone I wish to stun at dinner, I’ll hit him in the face.”
“I see you close your shirt for state dinners,” she heard herself saying, though she didn’t know where such a senseless comment came from. His mouth twitched, and his words, when he spoke, did not conceal his laughter. “I didn’t know you were so interested in my shirt, Lady.”
They were playing. It was a game. When he pinned her arms behind her back, grabbed her hair, and pushed her face into the dirt, she found that she was laughing as well. “Surrender,” he said. “Never.” She kicked her feet up at him and squirmed her arms out of his grasp. She elbowed him in the face, and when he jumped to avoid the blow, she flew at him and flattened him to the ground. She pinned his arms as he had just done, and pushed his face into the dirt. She dug one knee into the small of his back. “You surrender,” she said, “for you’re beaten.”
He didn’t wear his rings while they fought. He’d come without them the first day. When she’d protested that it was an unnecessary precaution, his face had assumed a mask of innocence. “I promised Giddon, didn’t I?” he’d said, and that fight had begun with Po ducking, and laughing, as Katsa swung at his face.
“Your brothers are the foolish ones,” Tealiff said, “for not seeing the strength in beautiful things. Come here, child,” he said to Katsa. “Let me see your eyes, for they make me stronger.”
“What we do in the practice rooms—that’s to help each other. We don’t use it against each other. We’re friends, Katsa.”
When you’re a monster, she thought, you are thanked and praised for not behaving like a monster. She would like to restrain from cruelty and receive no admiration for it.
When a monster stopped behaving like a monster, did it stop being a monster? Did it become something else?
“I couldn’t,” she said, “for you would know I meant to kill you, and you’d escape me. You’d stay far away from me, always.” “Ah, but I wouldn’t.” “You would,” she said, “if I wished to kill you.” “I wouldn’t.”
Take care. She has a knife, and she’s willing to use it.” “Good for her.”
How absurd it was that in all seven kingdoms, the weakest and most vulnerable of people—girls, women—went unarmed and were taught nothing of fighting, while the strong were trained to the highest reaches of their skill.