[Lavinia's POV—Imperial Ground—Afternoon]
The clang of steel rang through the training grounds—sharp, clean, and so loud it made the air hum. My sword slid against Osric's with a spark, and before I could even blink, he shoved forward with enough force to make my arms tingle.
Oh, so that's how we're playing today.
I shifted my weight to my back leg, letting his blade slide past, and brought mine up in a sharp arc toward his side. He blocked—barely.
"Good," he grunted, voice deep and clipped, like he was speaking through his teeth, "but you're still—"
I cut him off by twisting my wrist and striking again, faster, harder, until the metal sang. "Still what?" I panted, my grin sharp enough to cut.
He didn't answer—which meant I was making him work for it.
