Riven had her in the training yard before the first bell.
The snow underfoot was packed hard from days of use, slick in places where frost had re-formed overnight. Torches burned along the walls, their light casting a shifting glow over the yard. It wasn’t the usual slow build into drills this morning — the moment Elinora stepped onto the packed ground, Riven tossed her a pair of short wooden swords.
“We’re sparring,” he said.
She caught them clumsily. “I thought we were working on control today.”
His silver eyes were sharp, unreadable. “We are.”
The first strike came without warning. She barely blocked it in time, the jolt running up her arm.
“What—”
“Focus,” he cut in, pressing forward with a series of blows that forced her backward across the yard. “Kaelen’s in your head. I can f
