Harper
A few days later, I was fairly certain Elise was trying to kill me.
Not intentionally.
Probably.
But after the fourth time she knocked me flat on my butt in the training yard, I was starting to suspect otherwise.
“Okay,” I wheezed, staring up at the bright blue sky, “either you secretly hate me, or you’re preparing me to fight off a small army.”
Elise stood over me, hands on her hips, breathing evenly like she hadn’t just sent me flying.
“Neither,” she said calmly. “I’m preparing you not to die.”
“Same difference,” I muttered.
She offered me a hand, and I took it, groaning as she hauled me upright. “Again,” she said.
I blinked at her.
“Again? I can barely feel my legs.”
“You’re standing,” she pointed out. “Which means you’re capable.”
I glared at her. “You know, most fr
