The sparring yard had long emptied by the time Orion found Lucian again.
The sun was low, casting long shadows over the cobblestones. A dry breeze swept through the training field, rustling banners overhead and whistling through the hollow rings hung for combat drills.
Lucian stood alone at the edge of the yard, shirtless and soaked with sweat, hammering his fists against a training dummy. Each strike echoed—flesh against padded hide, dull but relentless.
Orion leaned against a post, arms crossed. “You gonna beat it to death or is that just your therapy now?”
Lucian didn’t stop.
Didn’t look at him.
Didn’t answer.
Orion let the silence drag, but not for long.
“Lucian.”
A pause. A breath.
Then Lucian lowered his fists and turned, rolling his shoulders.
Orion studied him. “I’ve bee
