Jake stepped forward and stopped before the gates, close enough that the distance between him and Kunther was measured in meters rather than the distance that conversation usually maintained.
The ninth brother's jaw tightened fractionally at the proximity, something in Jake's bearing triggering a response that his face was trying to hide—a flicker of uncertainty that crossed his expression like wind across water.
"Do you want to fight?" Jake asked.
Kunther's hand went to his sword hilt, the movement sharp enough to telegraph that the question had landed exactly where it was meant to land.
The ninth brother's confidence wavered for a moment before reasserting itself, the bravado returning like someone pulling a mask back into place.
"What, you became cocky now?" he said, and the words came out too fast, revealing the calculation happening behind his eyes.
