"I'm ready," Tristan said, steady and clear.
He had arrived early. He wore a plain shirt and boots with firm soles. He set his violin case on the porch and stepped into the circle without being asked.
The training area lay behind the manor. It was hidden, the ground solid and packed flat. Racks of wooden staves and short practice blades stood ready along the fence. Buckets of water waited in the shade, for drinking or for dousing bruises if drills grew rough.
Around the circle, each prepared in their own way: Kim walked the fence line to test the posts, Mira drew and released a bowstring before setting it aside, Tara pulled her hair back into a tight knot, and Therese stretched her shoulders while rolling her wrists.
Kim nodded once. "We start with a stance."
