"When someone saves your life, the smart move is to thank them. The smarter move is to wonder why."
***
Rhys stepped into the clearing proper. His father's spear held at ready position. The defensive stance that allowed for both attack and retreat. The position his father had drilled into him a thousand times during those long autumn afternoons.
The weapon felt alive in his hands. Eager for the violence that had been building in his chest for months of swallowed insults and forced subservience.
Every slight. Every condescending glance. Every whispered insult when they thought he couldn't hear. All of it coalesced into cold, focused rage that settled his hands and steadied his breathing.
"Vance Thorne," he said. Voice flat as winter stone. "Second son of House Thorne. Mediocre duelist who relies on his family name to avoid real challenges. Worse human being."
