Chapter 164
Meredith.
I don’t remember waking up this nervous before.
Not even on my first driving lessons or the first time Draven trained me on swimming.
But today — the day of my swimming test — my heart was an impatient drum in my chest before the sun had even properly risen.
I think I was too worried about failing and disappointing everyone, including myself, than the actual tests themselves.
When my maidservants came in, they immediately sensed it. Deidra was the first to speak.
“My lady, you look pale,” she said, pressing a warm hand to my cheek. “Don’t worry, you will pass. You’ve practiced so much.”
“Maybe too much,” I murmured, trying to sound amused. My voice came out dry.
Azul helped me into my training suit. It seemed familiar, but it didn’t feel like it offered any comfort today.
As they wrapped me in a towel, Arya whispered something soft and quick, like a prayer for luck. Kira squeezed my shoulder. Cora just smiled at me with gentle certainty, as though my passing was already written in the morning sun.
When they were done fussing, I drew a slow breath, squared my shoulders, and made my way out of my bedroom and straight to the pool area.
Draven was already there.
Of course, he was. At least he didn’t tell me I was late.
He has been gentler since yesterday, and I genuinely do not expect anything less.
Draven stood at the edge of the water, tall, still, arms folded, face as unreadable as ever. His gaze flicked to me when I arrived, and though it didn’t soften, it didn’t sharpen either.
It was close enough to comfort.
Dennis appeared a heartbeat later, leaning against a pillar as though he had only wandered by chance.
He had come to watch me.
“Don’t mind me,” he called, a grin on his face. “I’m just here to see greatness in action.”
I rolled my eyes, but the knot in my chest loosened slightly. “Thank you,” I shouted for him to hear.
“If you distract her, you will have to live with a missing third leg for the rest of your life,” Draven said to him.
And immediately, Dennis covered the area between his legs as a wild grin appeared at the corner of his lips.
“Brother, I will have you know that I’m very much hopeful and interested in having children.”
Draven didn’t respond to him. Instead, he turned his gaze and attention back to me.
“Are you ready?” he asked. His tone had softened.
The test started.
Draven’s voice carried over the water, calm but precise. He named each exercise the way he had over the past weeks: floating, breath control, short laps, diving to touch the pool floor, and swimming the length of the pool twice without stopping.
My muscles remembered what to do, even if my head kept buzzing.
I floated on my back, counting my breaths. Kicked off the wall, cut through the water, reached the other side.
I came up coughing once — nerves tightening my chest too much — but caught Draven’s gaze, sharp and steady, and forced the panic down.
It was a reminder that he held no sentiments during serious business, and I had to be careful.
Dennis clapped lightly from the side, teasing, “Just don’t drown, alright? I’m not jumping in after you.”
His words made me smile, even as water dripped into my eyes.
By the time it was done, my arms ached, and my legs felt like soft bread.
Draven flipped open his notebook, the one he carried once in a while, each time he didn’t have to get into a pull during some of the lessons.
He made a few notes, his head lowered, the scratching of the pen oddly loud against the morning breeze.
I waited, heart pounding. Finally, he lifted his gaze.
“You barely passed the mark,” he said, voice even.
For a breath, my heart dropped into my stomach.
But before I could speak, Dennis pushed off the pillar and said, “Barely passing is still passing. If you keep practising a few times a week, you will get better than just ’barely.’”
Relief rushed through me so fast my knees almost gave out. “I will do that,” I said quickly, breathlessly. My expectant gaze stayed on Draven.
Then he closed the notebook. “You passed,” he announced, his gaze steady on me. “Get ready for your first combat training.”
The words sank in.
I passed!
A grin broke across my face, and before I could stop it, I saw myself jumping into Draven’s sturdy chest.
“I passed!”
His strong arms caught me, crossing behind my back. It was after I felt my wet chest pressing on his hard chest that I realized my actions.
My laughter died.
“Um… Thank you,” I managed to say, stepping out of his embrace as he let me go. I was so embarrassed to meet his eyes.
Dennis cleared his throat as he stepped closer, smirking. “That was beautiful to watch.” Then he chuckled and changed the subject. “For passing, I think you deserve a gift.”
“What about a car?” I blurted out, half-teasing, half-hopeful in a bid to flow with the energy.
He laughed, head tilting back. “No.”
I put on an exaggerated pout. “Then what good are you?”
Before Dennis could answer, Draven stepped forward and flicked my forehead with two fingers, sharp enough to sting.
“Ow!” I rubbed the spot, glaring.
“Focus,” he said. “Channel your thoughts into your upcoming combat training. I won’t go easy on you. And remember to keep practising floating, even up to an hour or more. It could save your life one day.”
“I know,” I muttered, still rubbing.
“Good,” he said.
I thought Draven would send me straight to the training grounds to start swinging swords until my arms fell off.
Instead, as I dried my hair with a towel, he said calmly, “You will rest for a week before we begin combat training.”
My brows rose. “A whole week?”
“A week isn’t long,” he replied. “You will need it. Trust me.”
Part of me wanted to argue — to prove I was ready to keep going. But my aching limbs and the fading bruises on my arms made me bite back the protest.
Besides, it wasn’t every day Draven gave permission to rest.
He turned slightly to leave, but Dennis’s voice stopped him.
“Brother, aren’t you forgetting something?”
Draven paused. His back was turned to us at first, then he turned his head.
Dennis raised a brow, grinning. “What will you gift your wife for passing her swimming test?”
I turned to Draven, caught in that foolish spark of hope again, mouth already half-open.
His gaze slid to me.