Sir Jansen's expression twisted in disbelief and then slowly into amusement. He looked Lara up and down, scoffing at the sword she held with steady hands. The girl was wearing wide-legged pants, ideal for fighting. In his thirty-five years, he had never met such a bold girl wearing such an outfit.
She was beautiful but...
"You're serious?" he said with a laugh, full of scorn. "Do you even know how to hold that, girl?" He used his mouth to point to the training sword in Lara's hand. This isn't a parlor trick or courtly display."
"I trained under a great master," Lara replied, her tone sharp and controlled. "I've crossed blades with veterans, and I've bled. If you want to test me, draw your sword."
Jansen glanced toward the nearby knights and squires, who had paused their drills. A hush had fallen over the training grounds. Word was spreading fast: the daughter of General Odin was challenging a head knight of the Duke of Arches.
