A year passed.

  A year that, for Drake, proved harder than many battles.

  Where once his days had been filled with sword training, blood, and survival, they were now filled with books, ink, and endless questions.

  Much had changed during that year.

  He learned to read and write as if he had once known these things already and was merely remembering them.

  Moraena forced him to study the foundations of the exact sciences—arithmetic, geometry, and logic.

  He studied the history of the Kingdom of Domian: wars of the past, the fall of kings, and the rise of dynasties.

  He learned about neighboring states.

  About trade.

  About how power truly worked.

  And about the fact that wars did not always begin on the battlefield.

  Sometimes they began at a table.

  With a gss of wine.

  And a quiet whisper.

  Despite all this new knowledge, however, Drake was still Drake.

  A former soldier.

  And sometimes that led to rather strange situations.

  “If a merchant has three barrels of wine worth eight gold each,” Moraena said, tapping her quill against the table, “and he sells two of them…”

  “I would just take all three,” Drake replied calmly.

  Moraena slowly lifted her eyes from the book.

  “That is called robbery.”

  “Robbery is charging eight gold for a barrel!”

  She sighed heavily.

  “Sometimes I feel like I am educating a barbarian.”

  “A handsome barbarian,” Drake added.

  She threw the quill at him.

  He caught it easily in midair.

  Despite the long hours spent studying, training never disappeared.

  Every evening he practiced with his sword.

  His body had grown even stronger.

  His movements faster.

  The power of the incubus was still sealed by a special spell Moraena had created.

  The magical lock on his arms was slowly cracking, and according to her calcutions it would completely break within a year.

  When that happened, his true power would awaken, and Drake would have to learn how to restrain his demonic nature.

  Moraena expined that his body first had to fully mature.

  Only then would she be able to teach him how to control the power of an incubus.

  This worried Drake.

  But when the constant waves of desire finally faded and the endless thoughts of ciming Moraena stopped tormenting his mind, he felt a strange sense of relief.

  And then one morning…

  Moraena closed the book.

  “We are finished with the exact sciences and the basics.”

  “Today we begin a new subject.”

  Drake immediately grew suspicious.

  “Magic?”

  “No.”

  A pause.

  She looked at him completely seriously.

  “Etiquette.”

  Drake turned pale.

  “I would rather study mathematics again.”

  Moraena smiled.

  “Stand up.”

  He slowly rose from his chair.

  “Now imagine that you are at a noble ball.”

  “I would rather imagine a battlefield.”

  “No.”

  She snapped her fingers.

  Soft music began to py in the room.

  Drake frowned.

  “What is this?”

  “A dance.”

  She stepped closer.

  “Pce your hand on my waist.”

  He froze.

  “What?”

  “Your hand. On. My. Waist.”

  Ever since Moraena sealed his power, Drake had begun noticing that she often touched him now. Sometimes during breaks she would simply lie nearby, watching him read or train.

  Drake liked those moments.

  He had almost forgotten what it felt like to be touched with genuine warmth.

  But every time it happened, the magical lock inside him cracked slightly, and the incubus power stirred restlessly beneath the surface.

  Drake carefully pced his hand on her waist.

  “Not like that,” she said. “You are holding me as if you are afraid you might hurt me.”

  “What if I do?”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Your other hand here.”

  She took his palm and raised it.

  “Now step.”

  “One.”

  “Two.”

  “Three.”

  Drake tried to follow the movement.

  And almost immediately stepped on her foot.

  “Ow!”

  “I warned you I am better with a sword.”

  “Let’s try again.”

  The music continued to py.

  One step forward.

  A turn.

  And this time Drake did not step on her foot.

  Moraena narrowed her eyes.

  “Hm.”

  “What?”

  “You learn quickly.”

  “I told you.”

  They took a few more steps.

  And for a moment the room fell silent.

  Too silent.

  Outside, the forest whispered softly in the wind, and the light of candles slid across the wooden floor.

  Moraena suddenly realized how much he had changed during this year.

  She could now speak to him as an equal, not as a child.

  She refused to think about his body.

  He was, as always:

  Tall.

  Strong.

  Dangerous.

  Handsome.

  And still unbelievably stubborn.

  The music ended.

  Drake released her and stepped back.

  “Well?”

  “Well what?”

  “Did I pass?”

  Moraena smiled slightly.

  “When my heart starts racing and I blush from your dancing, then we can say you passed.”

  Her smile widened.

  But her true emotions remained hidden.