The Court and Council hearings consumed most of the pack's attention, with endless petitions, witnesses, and arguments.
But while runners were still searching for Carlos Suarez, life in the manor could not pause completely.
Training continued.
Behind the manor, the yard lay quiet, the ground worn flat from weeks of drills. Chalk circles marked sparring rings. Wooden racks held staves, short blades, and practice shields. Buckets of water sat in the shade. Usually, the thump of staves filled the air, the steady rhythm of wood striking wood.
But today was different.
Kim stood in the center, holding not staves but two wooden practice swords. They were blunted but heavy, carved to match the weight of real steel. He tossed one to Tristan.
"Today," Kim said, "you learn the edge."
Tristan caught it, though clumsily. The leather-wrapped hilt pressed firm into his palm, less forgiving than a staff, heavier than he expected. His heart quickened.
