The sun hung low on the horizon when Silvain found Marina on the training grounds, working through combat forms with desperate intensity.

"You're going to hurt yourself," he said, watching her spin and strike at invisible enemies with movements that bordered on reckless.

Marina didn't stop. "I need to be ready. Tomorrow, when the council meets, when I expose the traitors—I need to be sharp. Faster. Stronger."

"You need to breathe." Silvain caught her wrist mid-strike, pulling her close enough that she had no choice but to meet his eyes. "You're spiraling. I can feel it through the bond—your fear, your doubt, your certainty that somehow you're still playing into...