The courtyard was quiet, save for the soft rasp of steel against steel as Riven tested the edge of his blade. Sunlight spilled across the stones, but the air felt charged—like the sky itself held its breath. Alina stood at the center of the ring, stretching her arms, feeling the tug of the Veil just beneath her skin. It coiled there like smoke trapped in glass, restless and waiting.
“You’re distracted,” Riven said, not looking up from the weapon in his hand. His tone was casual, but she could hear the bite beneath it.
“I’m focused,” she answered, though even she heard the unsteadiness in her voice.
Riven finally lifted his eyes. That sharp, cutting gaze of his made it impossible to pretend. “No. You’re thinking about Kael.”
Heat flared in her cheeks. She wanted to deny it, to push the
