Sable's POV
Tomas's words stuck with me for days, the wedding rumor tangling itself up with everything Yarrow had already told me about the price of an unfinished casting. I tried to push it down, tried to focus on the parts of camp life that didn't involve Ironclaw at all, but it kept surfacing anyway, usually right when I least wanted it to.
Training helped, at least. It gave my hands something to do besides worry.
Ivy pulled me aside one morning, a different look on her face than usual.
"Not doing drills with you today," she said.
"Why not?"
"Rook wants to take over your combat training for a while." She said it plainly, but something about her tone suggested she found it more interesting than she was letting on. "Says you need to work on more than knife basics if that mark's goin
