"The hardest test isn't proving what you can do. It's proving what you can't."
***
The word "Nonsense" hung in the air between us.
Professor De Clare pushed off from the weapon rack. Her movements contained a coiled energy that made every survival instinct I possessed start screaming warnings.
The casual slouch of her posture didn't fool me for a second.
I'd read enough about her in the original novel to know that her apparent laziness was a mask. A way of lulling others into underestimating her until it was far too late.
She's sizing me up. The question is: what does she suspect?
"An injury teaches you what not to do." She gestured toward the sparring area with a casual flick of her wrist. The morning light caught the faded brand on her forearm. The sunburst mark of her old mercenary company, barely visible beneath the rolled-up sleeve of her grey robes. "It shows you where your guard was weak. Where your stance failed. Where your enemy found purchase."
