She had just, in front of everyone, offered herself as my instructor—not as a punishment or a formality, but as an acknowledgment. An ally.
Not a friend. Not yet.
But someone who’d chosen to stand on my side of this line.
Warmth flickered in my chest, surprising in its intensity.
“Thank you,” I said, and I meant it.
Rhea jerked her chin toward an open patch of dirt near a stack of practice mats.
“Boots off,” she said. “Let’s see what we’re working with.”
I toed my boots off and set them neatly beside the mat. The ground was cool and slightly damp under my bare feet. The dirt felt realer than the polished stone floors in the house, honest in its roughness.
“Stand how you think you should,” Rhea said. “Don’t overthink it. Just show me.”
I set my feet apart, one slightly back, knees
