The training arena is a massive oval, two hands’ deep in sand. Opposite the iron portcullis where I entered are straw practice dummies and archery targets. Beside the targets is a weapons rack, filled mostly with wooden swords and daggers, but also a few steel weapons. Blunted, I hope.

I’ve attended my share of recruitment days, and every year the Guard comes up with a creative way to test the new recruits’ mettle. During Hector’s year, recruits were given the ridiculous task of washing the entire arena with scrub brushes and dirty water. The recruits never see weapons on the first day. It means they’re breaking with tradition this year. I can’t help but wonder if it’s because of me.

I don’t wait long. Three young men enter, dressed exactly alike, their own items in hand. They’re older than I am, taller and stronger. Probably the army recruits Juan-Carlos mentioned, with two years of formal training already.

They look me up and down, not bothering to mask their surprise. One smirks openly. I don’t know if Juan-Carlos has gotten the word out yet about my “punishment,” so I’m not sure what these young men are seeing—the failed princess from a few days ago, or merely a girl daring to take to the sand.

I’m half tempted to step over and introduce myself, like it’s a perfectly normal day and I’ve every right to be here. I’m not sure why I hesitate.

Another boy enters through the portcullis. He’s half a head shorter than I am and barely fourteen years old, with chub still in his cheeks and huge brown eyes surrounded by luxurious black lashes. He holds a beautiful folded blanket in his arms, dark blue with a black wave pattern and a lavish fringe.

He startles to a stop when he sees a girl in the arena, but then a shy smile overtakes his face, and he heads my way with deliberation. His blanket bulges, attesting to other, hidden items.

“Morning,” he says.

“Morning,” I answer, more than a little grateful to be acknowledged politely. “Beautiful blanket.”

“Thank you! Mamá made it for me.” He looks up at the brightening sky. “It’s a good day for some mean-spirited hazing, yes?”

I bark a laugh. “Is that what’s going to happen?”

“Mostly to you and me. You for being a girl. Me for being small but enviably handsome.”

“I do see your point. I’m Red. I’d shake your hand, but . . .” I lift my hands, which are gripping my three small items so that they remain hidden.

“Weird name. You’ll get double the hazing just for that. I’m Aldo. Nice to meet you, Red.”

“Nice to meet you, Aldo.”

“Who are those three?” he says, looking toward the young men.

“Former army recruits, I think. They haven’t stopped smirking since they saw me.”

“Huh. Can you take them in a fight?”

Hector’s words come back to me. Some recruits delay revealing the full extent of their skills and training.