Background came from this design.
Genre: YA Fantasy
Word Count: 77,000 words
Just when her country is threatened by an invading army, seventeen-year-old Casora loses her battle against the berserker curse. Now she's exiled and unable to help protect her home and family unless she can find some way to tame the berserker. Her desperate search for a cure leads her to Tiaran, a scholar-prince who needs her help to defend his own land against the invaders and who just might be the answer to her prayers.
Casora stepped into the practice circle and grinned as she saluted her opponent. The sword was not her best weapon, but the chance to spar with Marcian was too good to pass up. The only sanctioned time they could touch was during such training duels. Oh, they could hold hands occasionally, but anything more would have to wait until they'd completed their required service in the war band known as the Deathless.
Of course, there wouldn't be much chance to touch in a sword match, either. On the other hand, if she disarmed him, he could turn it into a wrestling match. Naturally, he'd win. Her speed and agility wouldn't be much use against his size and strength in that kind of fight, but there'd be plenty of touching. Every inch of her skin tingled at the thought.
Marcian returned her salute and took up his stance, giving her the first move. She took a moment to admire all those muscles. This was going to be fun. She closed in with a move intended to lock Marcian's sword, then danced aside when he countered with an attack. Evidently, he hadn't thought of turning this into a wrestling match. He winked at her. Or else he was going to try to at least make the sword fight look believable first. Casora could go along with that.
She rushed forward and spun at the last instant to hit Marcian from the side with the flat of her blunted practice sword. She'd learned that move from her oldest brother and she didn't use it very often.