Rosalind noticed my distraction before I had said a word about it, which had become something of a pattern between us over the past weeks, her sharp eyes catching every small tell in my posture and breathing before I ever managed to put the underlying worry into words myself.
Your control is slipping, she said, watching the gold at my fingertips flicker unevenly instead of holding the steady burn I had finally learned to manage over our previous sessions together. Not badly. But enough that something is pulling your attention somewhere other than the exercise in front of you. What is it, Bri. Tell me plainly rather than making me guess at it through half of a training session.
Torin is worried about the old guard, I said, letting the heat recede rather than fight through the distraction,
