Grey is your personal guard. He’s the best of the best. You’ve begged him for weeks to teach you how to throw a knife.

“Fine.” With a defeated sigh, he finally agrees.

…

Throwing knives wasn’t nearly as easy as Grey had made it seem. It’s been fifteen minutes, and you haven’t managed to land a single one.

You let out a groan as the dagger you throw once again fails to penetrate the dirt. You look over to Grey and huff.

“Are you sure I shouldn’t be throwing at a plank of wood or something?”

He leans against the side of the tree granting you two shade.

“Would you prefer to watch the knives bounce from something else, my lady?”

That smartass.