Naya didn’t answer this time. What did he expect? This was the army she was going to command one day. Her father’s greatest achievement. They weren’t fucking weak.

Akoro was silent for a moment, staring down at the empty wooden tablet. "So your opinion is that it was your father’s combat skills and strategy that helped him to win the war and rule successfully?"

Naya nodded, not pointing out that he’d asked two different questions. Her father had definitely leaned into that when he first took over the Empire, but her mother’s influence had made him so much more. She’d never offer that information to Akoro. From now on, she had to control her temper and wait. He needed to ask for every piece of power he wanted from her.

He got up from his seat. "Then you will explain to me his combat style.” He walked to the door and Naya frowned, getting up and following him. He led her out of the room and took a sharp left down some steps and into a large, flat rooftop space surrounded by a wall that was about waist high on Akoro.

The city spread out before them, but he didn’t give her a chance to indulge the view. Along one side of the rooftop stood multiple stands holding a variety of weapons, from swords and spears to other weapons she didn't recognize.

Akoro led her into the space and then called to his guard, speaking quickly and quietly in the harsh language she was beginning to get used to hearing. The guard left and Akoro headed to the weapon stand. “If he trained his whole army in secret, then he must have a method for teaching it quickly and accurately."

Naya watched him bewildered.

He picked up various strange weapons from the stand, turning them over before putting them back. "You said your training is mostly with blades." He threw the question over his shoulder, moving farther down the weapon stand.

"Yes…."

He turned to face her. In each hand he held thick, wooden rods, both different lengths but much shorter than the average spear. "Which is closer to the average length of the dagger that you are trained in?”

Naya pointed to the shorter one.

He threw it to her and grabbed another one for himself. "You will show me your father’s combat using these training bars," he said, striding the center of the roof.

"I showed you in the desert,” Naya said, reluctant to even mention that event. She followed him to the center of the roof. “I don’t know what more I can demonstrate.”

He turned and planted his feet wide, slightly bent, with one side of his body angled away from her. "I want to learn how your father fights, how his army fights. Start."

Naya lifted the wooden rod, weighing it in her hand, feeling the size of it. It was slightly too wide for her grip, but she could make it work. His request was odd though. She peered up at him. "I started training with my father from before I could walk. This isn't something I can teach you in a morning. It takes time and dedication and practice."

“You assume too much.” His voice was hard. “You know nothing of our combat training, how we fight or our philosophies on the battlefield. You don't need to teach me to fight. I want to know how your father taught his men, how they prioritize what they do when they fight in battle.”

"I don't need to fight you for that," Naya said, dropping her arm back down to her side. "For battle, his training is a simple concept, it’s just not that easy to do."

Akoro straightened. "Tell me."

"There are certain points in the body, called vital points, if hit or stabbed will fatally wound or disable someone," Naya said. "The priority for the strongest, fastest warriors is to hit one of these areas, disarm the opponent, and move onto the next. But since dying soldiers can still cause harm, another warrior will prioritize killing those fallen opponents. That way, more people were injured or dying than fighting back."

Akoro nodded slowly, his mind working behind those intense, dark eyes. "Interesting strategy.”

Naya got the idea that he didn't particularly like hearing what she was saying, but why would he? He knew now how the Lox army would fight, but it wasn't a strategy that could be easily circumvented.

“But battle is messy and frantic,” he said. “It isn’t neat enough for a two part strike like that. Men do not stand around waiting to be fatally stabbed.”

“True,” Naya agreed. “But if you know your terrain and your enemy, if you’ve honed your instincts and pay attention, if you’ve planned careful for everything you can plan for, it works.”

Akoro held her gaze, allowing silence to stretch between them. "Show me the vital points," he said finally.

Naya pointed to the nine areas, from her temples to the top of her foot.

“Some of them are very difficult to get to," Akoro said.

She nodded. "Yes, but every warrior has been trained to reach those points.”

Akoro was silent for a long moment, stepping forward slowly. His rich scent followed him, swallowing her as he towered over her, his long plait over one shoulder. "How did you get me to the ground so quickly in the desert?" His voice was a deep, rich rumble of sin.

Naya blinked her gaze away, her mouth tightening as she tried to not to let him affect her. "I paid attention to your fighting style. It's not anything that my father wouldn't teach."

"Explain."

"Each opponent has their own strengths and weaknesses," she explained. "They have certain trained behaviors and preferences."

His eyes flared. "What did you notice about me that led you to believe you could topple me?"

Naya glanced up at him, refusing to step back, but annoyed she had to endure the sense that he was all around her because he was so close. "Your footwork is weak," she said. "You’re not agile when you fight. You resist moving your weight quickly. So that means you use your weight in a specific way. I was able to anticipate and exploit that to get you off balance."

As she spoke Akoro's face tightened and contorted. But he said nothing, probably because she was right.

For the first time since her capture, a sense of satisfaction spread through her. She forced herself not to smile. No doubt he would punish her if she did. Still, she couldn’t resist adding, “That’s not unusual for an Alpha. Many of the Alphas I spar with, who are new to my father’s style, have to be trained out of relying on their bulk.”

A snarl graced his lip before his turned and repositioned his feet, raising his wooden bar.

"Strike me on one of my vital points," he snarled.

Naya eyed him. After what happened last time she absolutely didn’t want to fight him. But he probably wouldn’t let her refuse this challenge and they won’t be having sex on these rooftop grounds. "All right." She positioned her feet wide and raised her bar. "But I must tell you, I am at a disadvantage in this clothing. If you really want me to fight the way my father intended, I can’t be wearing skirts and dresses."

Akoro charged at her, and they began to fight.

They fought just as wildly as the last time, but it felt like there was more at stake this time. Every corded muscle in Akoro's body tensed with aggression and seemed fueled by the motivation to disprove what she’d said.

It seeped out into his scent, heavy, and somewhat acrid—aggression blended with his usual Alpha dominance and tinged with a hint of something heady, but Naya tried not to suck it into her lungs as she moved.

The harsh scent of Alpha aggression wasn't uncommon. She’d sparred with many Alphas who wanted to prove themselves against the emperor's celebrated daughter. She didn't let those emotions or their accompanying odors get in the way of her focus. But Akoro’s scent called to every quivering nerve that had been awakened by him. She wanted to smother herself with his tantalizing fragrance.