Free Grace of the Goddess (The Death Dealer Book 3) by Katie Roman

belt, producing a leather riding glove. In one fluid motion, he slapped her across the face with it. “If violence is all you understand, then violence is what I shall give you. I challenge you to a duel.”
                  Grace touched her burning cheek. Her cold fingers felt good against it, soothing the sting of the glove, if not his words. She glared at Calvin. The candle light flickered, casting devious shadows over her cousin’s face.
                  “We fight outside, in the moonlight.”
                  Calvin opened the door and held it open for her to move through first. The moon’s light filtered weakly through the trees. Grace had fought in the dark before so she knew one false move and there would be blood, but she was too angry to care.
                  She drew her sword, the moon reflecting on the steel. It was a short sword, smaller than Calvin’s sword, but easier to maneuver one-handed. Calvin did the same, taking up the guard position. She gave her sword a few test swings before doing the same, and studied her cousin by the moonlight. He was angry now, but he was like her. Certain clarity came when she fought. Only the next move mattered.
                  Grace crossed her sword arm over her chest in salute. When Calvin did the same, they crossed blades. The clank of steel on steel resonated through the forest.
                  “Father should never have wasted so much time training you!” Calvin growled as he brought his sword down.
                  She blocked it easily and moved to the side, blocking his next blow aimed at her right. She was never much for egging her opponent on, but she felt Calvin deserved it. “He had to train someone worthy of his talent, seeing as how you disappointed him so much.” Her rage fueled her words.
                  Again, Calvin tried for a side swing. She twirled out of the way and struck Calvin’s shoulder with her hilt.
                  “Hardly. He always felt pity for you, you know. Your own father didn’t love you enough to put you in his will.”
                  Calvin’s words almost caused Grace to take a hit from the left, but at the last moment she turned, catching his blade with hers.
                  “How does it feel, I wonder, to know if I had been a boy you would have no standing, but would have been shipped off to the temples for a lifetime of religious contemplation?” She lunged, pressing their bodies close so it became harder for Calvin to maneuver. “How does it feel to know that if my mother and Uncle George have a child, or if George marries a young wife, even now, you will be replaced that easily? How does it feel to make a house on shifting sands?”
                  Calvin pressed back on her, trying to force her to her knees. Grace stood firm, not giving away any ground. “You don’t belong here.”
                  “You are right.” Grace slipped her hand to her belt and pulled out a knife, moving quickly and pressing it to his throat. “I do not belong here.” She had no intention of hurting him, but she needed him to let her go; to let her flee and start a new life away from scandal.
                  “I yield,” he said quietly. Grace backed away and sheathed her weapons. Calvin rubbed his neck.
                  “If you are done insulting me, I would like to head out now. I am not interested in staying where I am hated.”
                  “I do not hate you, Grace,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. “I just do not understand you anymore. You would never have pulled a knife on me before. Or punch me.”
                  “You have never used my father’s will against me before, either.” Grace frowned. Her father died without drafting his own will, so the family had to default to her grandfather’s will that