[Draven’s POV]

Sera’s daily report arrives with my morning tea, as predictable as the tides.

“The rogue continues to behave herself,” Sera begins, settling into the chair across from my desk. “Compliant. Hardworking. She hasn’t caused a single incident worth noting.”

“How terribly disappointing.” I lean back, studying her weathered face. “I was hoping for at least one murder attempt by now.”

“Your humor remains as dry as ever, my lord.” Sera’s lips twitch. “But there is something curious about her.”

“Only one thing? She’s losing her mysterious appeal already.”

“She moves wrong.” Sera folds her hands in her lap. “Or rather, she moves too right. Her spatial awareness rivals our trained scouts.”

I set down my tea carefully. “Go on.”

“Yesterday I observed her in the kitchens. A servant dropped a knife behind her. She didn’t flinch or startle. She simply stepped aside before it hit the ground, as if she knew exactly where it would fall.”

“Reflexes can be sharpened by hard living.”

“These aren’t survival reflexes, my lord. These are trained responses. The kind we drill into our warriors for years.” Sera meets my eyes steadily. “Whatever she claims about being a simple rogue, her body tells a different story entirely.”

“I told you,” Khaira rumbles through our bond. “She is not ordinary. My instincts about her remain unchanged.”

I ignore my dragon’s commentary.

“Continue surveillance. I want to know every detail of her movements.”

“Of course, my lord. There’s one more thing.” Sera hesitates. “She’s been assigned to help with equipment in the training yard this afternoon.”

“Closer to the weapons?” A smile tugs at my lips. “How wonderfully convenient.”

The training yard buzzes with activity when I arrive. Young riders practice forms under Xavier’s watchful eye while servants scurry between equipment racks.

I position myself in the shadows near the armory entrance.

The perfect vantage point.

Evelyn works near the weapon racks, organizing practice blades with careful efficiency. Even from this distance, I notice what Sera described. The economy of her movements. The way she tracks everyone in her peripheral vision.

She’s cataloguing threats. Automatically. Unconsciously.

“Watch,” Khaira urges. “She reveals herself in small moments.”

A young rider jostles a rack while reaching for a training sword. The motion sends another blade sliding free, tumbling toward the ground, and Evelyn moves before I can even blink.

Her hand shoots out, catching the blade mid-fall. Her grip settles perfectly on the hilt—fingers positioned exactly right, wrist angled for immediate defense or strike.

For one heartbeat, she holds the weapon like she was born with steel in her hand. Then her expression flickers and she fumbles the blade deliberately, nearly dropping it again before placing it back on the rack with clumsy haste.

“Did you see?” Khaira’s interest burns through our bond. “That was no accident. That was muscle memory.”

“I saw.” My jaw tightens. “At least some minor Dragon’s House training. Maybe better.”

The afternoon crawls past while I wait.

Patience has never been my strongest virtue, but some prey requires careful stalking. When evening shadows stretch across the compound, I make my move and find her in a corridor near the servants’ quarters. Empty. Private.

Perfect for the conversation we need to have.

“Going somewhere?” I step from the shadows, blocking her path.

She startles, genuinely this time, before composing herself. “Lord Draven. I was just returning to my quarters after my duties.”

The audacity steals my breath for a moment. She tries to sound casual, careful, but her eyes are anything but. They’re full of fire.

“She has fire,” Khaira observes with unmistakable appreciation. “We were right to keep her.”

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