47

“What are you doing?”

Jasmine and Rihlia stopped practicing the self-defense move they’d been working on and looked at Keilor. He was back in uniform today and his bandaged biceps, and a few fading nicks and bruises, showed clearly. Jayems was right beside him in the empty courtyard. He looked grave.

“Practicing getting out of grabs,” Jasmine answered and wiped her forehead. It was difficult to look him in the eye after last night.

“Don’t go,” she’d begged, even as she’d slowly allowed him to step back.

He’d closed his eyes and drawn his hands away. “When you’re ready,” he’d promised, and she’d moved away, disappointed, as he’d opened the door and left.

He was making a bad habit of that, she thought. Bringing her attention back to the question at hand, she said, “Before that we were doing kicks. Why?”

The late morning sunlight didn’t quite reach the floor of their open air chamber, and cool shadows played across his face. “Do you really believe it will help you?”