"Captain, how dare he speak to you like that and just walk away?" Seraphina snapped, her hand flying to her sword. The steel rang as she pulled it half from its sheath. "Would you like me to teach him a lesson right now? I'll cut him down this instant!"
Alaric raised his hand, palm firm in the air. "No."
She froze, frowning.
"What he said… it isn't wrong," Alaric admitted. His gaze didn't waver from Nolan's back as the young man walked away. "But even if you were to attack him, it would be bad for you."
Seraphina scowled. "What do you mean by that?"
"You wouldn't understand," Alaric murmured, his eyes narrowing.
He studied Nolan carefully. As a sword master, he was trained to read every twitch, every breath, every shift of weight that revealed an opening. But Nolan—standing so casually, even lifting a hand to brush at his own face—left nothing. Not a single weakness to exploit.
