Meredith.
The week Draven gave me to rest had vanished as quickly as spilt water drying under the sun.
And now, standing at the centre of the training grounds, wrapped in the black combat clothes he'd gifted me, I realized rest had only left my nerves with more time to twist themselves into knots.
The morning sun hadn't fully warmed the stone yet. The air felt fresh against my skin, but my palms were slick with sweat, making the wooden practice sword shift uneasily in my grip.
Draven stood a few paces away with folded arms. And his gaze, fixed on me, was calm, watchful, and heavy.
Dennis lounged a few meters behind, perched on a low branch of a tree, looking as relaxed as if he had wandered down just to watch the sunrise. A familiar smirk tugged at his lips.
All thanks to Draven taking the lead in giving me a week's worth of break, I didn't have to continue my driving lessons as Dennis followed in his steps.
