Keiran's POV:
I exhaled loudly and drove my fist into the padded post again.
CRACK.
The wood shuddered beneath the layers of leather.
I stepped back, rolling my shoulders, feeling the pleasant burn ripple through my arms. The training yard was empty — the way I liked it — just the sound of fists striking, the low grunt of exertion, and the whisper of the wind through the trees.
I lived for this. Out here, I didn’t have to think about Alyssa, or Rolan’s temper tantrums, or Cole’s quiet stares.
Out here, it was just me and the next strike. But movement in the corner of my eye dragged me out of my rhythm.
I slowed, turning slightly, brows pulling together. A line of maids — maybe seven or eight of them — shuffled across the courtyard, arms full of flowers, garlands, silken cloth, and
