The sound of their laughter still clung to the tower walls when Lara bent double, trying to steady her breath. Vaskar leaned lazily against the stone, arms folded across his chest, looking far too composed for someone who had just sprinted half the palace grounds.
"You are not even sweating," Lara glared at him between gasps.
"I don't sweat," Vaskar said with mock gravity. "Princes merely…glow."
Lara snorted so loudly that a passing servant dropped his basket of apples. "Glow? You? You looked like a startled stag when I ran past you."
"Startled?" He tilted his head, eyes glimmering with mischief. "No, I was but admiring the grace of your form in flight. Truly, who could not?"
Her cheeks warmed instantly, though she tried to mask it by crossing her arms. "Admiring me losing, you mean."
"But you didn't lose," he countered. "You triumphed magnificently. How could I possibly look away from such a display?"
