““She moved like a midnight storm. Whatever training she’d had in Wendlyn, whatever that prince had taught her … Gods help them all. Punch after punch, block, lunge, duck, spin … The crowd was a writhing thing, foaming at the mouth at the swiftness, the skill. Chaol had seen her kill. It had been a while since he’d seen her fight for the enjoyment of it. And she was enjoying the hell out of this. An opponent worthy of her, he supposed as she locked her legs around the commander’s head and rolled, flipping him.””
