Meredith.
My palm brushed against his ribcage before he spun and caught my wrist again.
A deep, almost proud sound left his throat. "Better."
I was breathless now, but I still managed a small proud smile. "I'm… learning."
"No, you are fighting," he corrected, holding my gaze as the corner of his lip lifted in a proud smile. "And you're not losing."
His words filled me with a strange steady warmth, and I nodded firmly. "Again."
He smirked faintly at my determination, then lunged—this time with enough force to make me stumble back two steps.
My heel dug into the dirt, but I refused to fall. I squared my shoulders and met him again, blocking one strike and deflecting another.
We circled like that for a while, the sound of our movements echoing softly across the training grounds.
I was still far from perfect, but I could already feel the difference in myself even though Valmora might think otherwise.
