Their Hidden Princess (Zora) novel Chapter 79

**Where Sleeping Rivers Dream We Follow Trails Toward Tomorrow by Evan Milesa Cade**

**Chapter 79**

**22**

**65 vouchers**

Starting the week as if nothing had transpired felt like a heavy weight on my chest. Mona, ever the optimist, tried to reassure me, insisting that Valentin would soon realize his mistakes. But I couldn’t shake my skepticism, especially when I thought of the wild, untamed look he had shared with Amara.

The very idea of them together haunted me, a nightmarish specter that loomed over my thoughts all week. It always began innocently enough, a vivid dream where Valentin and I were entangled in the steamy confines of a shower. The mirror behind us reflected our bodies, giving me a tantalizing glimpse of Valentin’s form, but as I leaned back, lost in the throes of pleasure, the reflection morphed into something far more sinister.

Bella’s twisted, sadistic smile greeted me in the glass as she writhed beneath Valentin’s touch. I felt like a ghost, trapped behind the surface, pounding my fists against the mirror, desperate for him to notice me, to pull me back into reality.

Every morning, I awoke drenched in sweat, the sun’s first rays creeping through my window, offering no comfort to my sour mood. The burden of training with Valentin and Thorne loomed over me like a storm cloud. Valentin could barely meet my gaze, and my only relief came from knowing that Amara had been barred from our sessions.

Maximus, on the other hand, was relentless in pushing my limits during our training. He informed me that I had mastered the basics well enough to delve into advanced techniques. This meant learning to topple, pivot, and leap over him as he swung at me, all while I was still a good foot shorter than him.

By the time Friday night rolled around, I was utterly drained from the week. I had managed a mere two hours of sleep the night before and had consumed nine cups of coffee throughout the day. My body felt jittery, yet I was trapped in a state of half-awake exhaustion. I almost wished Maximus had chosen to hold our session outside, where the fresh air might have invigorated me.

“Tonight, we’re going to focus on the spinning hook kick,” Max announced, his voice cutting through my fog as I stifled a yawn. “It’s a Taekwondo maneuver that allows you to channel your full weight into a powerful kick.”

He stepped in front of a training dummy, demonstrating the move with a fluid grace that left me in awe. He lunged forward, unleashing the full force of his body into a spinning kick that sent the dummy flying across the gym.

I blinked, incredulous. “I’m supposed to do that?”

“Ideally,” Maximus replied, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

“And in what universe am I going to find that much space during a fight?” I shot back, my tone deadpan.

“An ideal one, clearly,” he said, dragging the dummy back into position in front of me. “Or perhaps when your back is turned to your opponent. Or when you find yourself surrounded.”

“Right,” I muttered, dropping into a defensive stance. “What’s next?”

“You’re going to step forward with your non-striking foot and rotate your hip on the striking foot,” he instructed, demonstrating the movement with precision.

I followed his lead, focusing intently on the mechanics. To my surprise, I managed to strike the dummy in the same spot where Maximus had landed his kick. After a few more attempts, I paused, hands resting on my hips as I caught my breath.

“Now, you’re going to incorporate it into sparring,” Max said, eyeing me with a mix of challenge and encouragement.

“Sparring?” I stammered, disbelief creeping into my voice. “Max, I’m exhausted and—”

He dropped into a stance, cutting me off. “It’s essential to practice when you’re fatigued. Your opponent won’t give you a moment to breathe. Train your body to stay engaged, and it will never turn off.”

“Fucking hell,” I muttered under my breath, reluctantly returning to my stance. He had a point, and nothing he had said had proven incorrect thus far.

We exchanged jabs and punches, each movement a test of endurance. Then, Max found a way to slip behind me, presenting the perfect chance to execute the kick he had just taught me. I launched it, but he blocked it effortlessly, grunting as he did so.

“Good,” he encouraged. “Try again.”

I threw myself into the next attempt, even as my body screamed for me to stop. We continued trading blows, and with each passing moment, my muscles began to burn. My heart pounded in my chest, and my mind swirled with the events of the past week.

Amara tearing into my knee.

Thorne’s relentless pursuit.

Valentin lost in Bella’s embrace.

I kept throwing punches, swinging my leg high, and dodging Maximus’s strikes. It was a calculated dance, each movement strong and deliberate, yet my thoughts spiraled back to those moments.

Amara shredding my knee.

Thorne’s persistence.

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