Chapter Forty
The training grounds felt like home. Not the packhouse. Not Cedar Ridge's gates. Not even her father's house. This. The packed dirt beneath her boots. The sound of wooden weapons colliding. The smell of sweat, leather, and earth. This was home. For the first time in weeks, Rowan felt like herself again. "Again." The young warrior groaned. Rowan pointed at his stance. "Your feet are too close together." "They are not." "They are." "They're barely—" The training sword tapped his ankle. The warrior yelped. Several nearby warriors laughed. Rowan smiled. "Too close together." The warrior sighed dramatically and adjusted his stance. "Better." A few warriors from Silver Moon watched from nearby. Several Cedar Ridge warriors looked entirely too pleased with themselves. Ap
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