(Lucas’ POV).
Lena was pacing.
Her arms were crossed over her chest, her brows pulled into that tight knot she always wore when she was trying to argue her way out of something.
“I don’t see why this is necessary,” she said, her voice tight. “I mean… have you seen those people who enter the warrior contest? They train their entire lives! I—I can’t even run a mile without gasping for breath.”
I leaned against the wall, watching her. Adrian sat nearby, arms folded, expression unreadable. But I could tell he was losing patience.
Lena turned to me next, clearly hoping for support.
“Lucas, tell them. Tell them this is insane. I’ll make a bigger fool of myself than I already have.”
“You won’t,” I said quietly.
She blinked at me. “What?”
“You won’t make a fool of yourself,” I repeat
