I've reviewed my strategy over and over in my head, although it's heard to plan for someone like Rose. I look at the door for the hundredth time. Sehun should have been back by now.

On top of my anxiety over meeting Rose and over the network of peopler clearly trying to kill me, my thoughts keep going back to my parents and everything I don't know about them. What they were like when they were my age, whether they liked being Strategia, how many assassins they ultimately had to kill to protect themselves and me, where I factored into the decisions they made. It's almost more than I can take.

My door opens and I jump from my seat near the fireplace.

Sehun wears the same worried expression he had when he left. "It's done," he says quietly as he latches the door behind him.

"And? Did she say anything or give my indication that he would show up?" I ask, searching his face for clues.

"No. But we're talking about Rosé, and this is an opportunity to get you in a vulnerable position. I doubt she'll miss it," he says.

Sehun removes his cloak and rolls up his sleeves. I give him a questioning look. He's not getting ready to spar with me, is he?

I flip my hair over my shoulder, and just as I do, Sehun aims a punch at my stomach. I block and immediately adjust my stance so that I'm not open to him. Well, I guess that answers that question.

"Mediocre defense," he says, and takes a swing, this time at my face.

I dodge his fist.

"If I were Rose, that punch would have hit you. You can't be that slow," he says. "And if she comes after you in the trees, it's mostly going to be hand work. She might manage a kick if she's able to brace herself, but otherwise you can expect that any attack will be aimed at your upper body."

I jab at him, but he easily steps out of reach before I'm halfway there and grabs my wrist, pulling me off balance. I stumble forward. He hooks his arm around my neck in a loose choke hold, pulling me into his chest.

"Don't counter unless you absolutely have to. I've told you that," he says roughly, and releases me. "You'll instantly put yourself at a disadvantage. You're fast and you learn quickly, but you need to be ready. You need to pay attention to visual cues."

"But I saw your shoulder move and -"

"That's not what I'm talking about," he says, and it's obvious that he's still frustrated about the Rose meeting. "I gave you three cues that I wanted to fight you and you fixed your hair instead of getting yourself into a defensive position."

Wow. He's in a mood.

"Okay, well, what were your cues?" I spit back at him. "Rolling up your sleeves?"

He an eyebrow at me. "You're frustrated. That's good," he says. "Maybe now you'll pay better attention."

Man, I wish I could fast-forward to being a better fighter so that I could knock him out.

"I taught you what to look for when you're already fighting - which foot is back, where your opponent's eyes go before they take a swing, and which muscle tense. But what you don't know are the signs that tell you someone wants to fight," he says.

"Are you getting any of those vibes from me right now? Because you should be," I say.

He lifts a brow again. "Look at your opponent's chin to jut out or their jaw to clench - like this," he says, gritting his teeth and lifting his jaw in my direction. "When people are angry, they frequently grit their teeth. And jutting your jaw is a territorial gesture - a sign that you're threatening someone's personal space. Now, it'll never be as pronounced and obvious with Strategia as with some idiot in a bar, so you're going to have to be alert for a more subtle version of it."

I nod. "That makes sense. Kai did that before he threw the knife at me."

"Exactly," he says. "Another thing to look for is the nostril flare. It's a survival mechanism to get more oxygen into our lungs and get the blood flowing before a fight. The same is true of pupil dilation - they'll expand to take in as much information about an opponent and the surroundings as possible."

"Got it," I say, nodding.

"Another thing you might detect is someone puffing themselves up, trying to look imposing as possible. The more space someone's body takes up, the more testosterone they produce - giving both men and women strength and speed. If you're paying close enough attention and wind up spotting a couple of these cues, then you need to move immediately. Don't let Rose get a hit in. You'll greatly regret it."

"And what if I only see one cue?" I ask.

He frowns. "One isn't enough of an indicator. It might just mean that she's angry rather than planning to hurt you. So whatever you do, don't mirror any of her behaviors. It will only escalate the situation. Keep your posture relaxed and open."

"I can do that," I say.

"And again, don't counter unless you have to," he says. "Just get away from her and let me deal with it."

I nod. "I appreciate it. Even with the bad attitude that's putting me on edge."

"Attitude?" His eyes widen. "You're really not taking this seriously enough."

"Not true," I say, matching his frustration. "I'm nothing but serious about this. I know this is risky. I know people are trying to kill me. I just don't need to suffer over it until something's actually happening or I'll tense up and screw myself."

His mouth opens and closes, like he doesn't know what to say to me.

"And it definitely doesn't help anything to have you mad at me," I say.

"Mad at you? Suzy, I'm not mad at you," he says, and pauses. "I'm worried about you. I . . ." He looks away.

"What?" I say.

He makes eye contact with me. The butterflies I felt earlier return, and before I can reconsider what I'm doing, I take a step toward him.

The emotions on his face shift from frustration to desire and back again, like he's having an argument with himself over me. "I care about you," he says, and his voice is quiet. "I care what happens to you. The last thing I want is for you to get hurt." His words are slow and weighty. I get the sense that he hasn't really cared about anyone in so long that he's almost scared to admit it out loud, that caring for someone means so much responsibility that it's overwhelming. He smiles a small heart-wrenching smile. "I don't know what I would do if I lost you."

For a split second he looks at my lips and I can see the question on his face.

My heart pounds and I stare at him, completely lost in his eyes. I want to tell him that I feel the same way, that I don't know what it all means, and that this has never happened to me before. Instead I move closer.

He lifts a hand and gently brushes my cheek with the back of his fingers, sending a pleasant shiver down my neck. In turn, I reach out and place my palm against his chest. I can feel his heart under his linen shirt and it's racing almost as fast as my own. He runs his finger over my bottom lip and slips his other hand behind my neck.

When his lips press into mine, it's with such surprising emotion that a thrill pulses through me, weakening my knees. He pulls me toward him and my arms lift to wrap around his neck.

His hands move through my hair and onto my back and I press closer to him. All those times Jisoo talked about being knocked over by a kiss, I never understood, until now. Our connection is overwhelming, like a floodgate opening that I didn't even know was there.

All at once he releases me before I can steady myself, and I'm left with a tingling body and now words. I blink at him in confusion.

There's beat of silence.

"I didn't mean . . ." he says, and he looks vulnerable. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" I say.

He smiles and shakes his head. "You're right, I don't know why I said that."

I smile. "I'm pretty sure you just scared the crap out of yourself by having real emotion."

He laughs but also looks a little sad. "You might actually be right."

"Well, you're not the only one who's scared by their feelings right now," I say, and realize my cheeks are getting hot again.

He doesn't respond right away. He just looks at me, his eyes burning with thoughts I wish I knew. "Suzy, there's something . . ."

I wait a moment.

"Sehun?" I say, hoping he'll continue.

Sehun opens his mouth to respond, but before he can get a word out there's a muffled sound from the hallway - a guard patrolling.

"It's time," he says, and all the fear I was putting off earlier immediately comes rushing back.