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The training circle at the edge of the stronghold grounds was usually reserved for elite drills - hard packed earth, marked with runes that lit up under pressure, a perimeter of wooden practice dummies scarred by thousands of strikes.

But this morning, it had been rearranged. The heavy iron weights were pushed to one side. The sharp-edged practice swords were swapped for blunted, lightweight ones sized exactly to small hands. And Aria stood at the center, surrounded by four pairs of eyes watching her with very different expressions.

“First rule,” she said, her voice clear but gentle, not the sharp command she used in war councils. “We do not...