"You want me to spar with you?" he asked her, unknowingly giving her a once-over.
"Yes," Astensia said, her smile still present. "How else would I know that you've learnt anything if I don't see you use it in combat?"
Lancet pouted his lips as he thought for a while.
"Don't worry," Astensia noticed his silly fear. "I won't use my full power on you, Master."
Lancet pretended to not have been concerned about that. He straightened his shoulder and puffed his chest. "Worry? I wasn't worrying at all."
Astensia's smile widened. "Of course not, Master."
Lancet picked up his sword and stepped into a circle that had been drawn with chalk. Astensia stood across from him. The Blessed Blade looked humbler in her hands than it had any right to.
Lancet's sword on the other hand felt like a long-limbed animal he was trying to convince not to bolt.
