Truth be told, it's the closest thing to speaking that they've managed recently, or at least since their last lesson. Nothing is concealed; there's honesty in the sweat on their brows, the curve of his lips and the triumph in her eyes.

Neither Elizabeth nor Will feels it necessary to hold anything back here, in this clearing, with everything they have invested in a clash of swords.

Elizabeth whirls, the pace so furious now that her body acts and her mind follows. Clenching her jaw, she whips her sword toward his heart, only to spin when he deflects the blow, forcing her to quickly block again. Blades crossed, they both bear down. She ignores the screaming of her muscles and, for the first time in what feels like a long time, does not hesitate to meet his eyes.