“Is anyone allowed to join?” she asked, changing the subject and stepping out of his embrace to gesture at the sight before them.

There was a beat of silence, but then he nodded. “They won’t turn anyone down who is interested, but they do require you pass a test to join their rankings.”

“What kind of test?” Guards on Aleron didn’t have to pass anything in order to join. They just signed their names, swearing their allegiance to Emperor Sulian, and began training with the rest of them, no matter how much they struggled.

“A test of strength and skill.”

“So, basically a sparring match?” she asked, giving him a side glance. That didn’t sound so bad. Jaren was practically a rabid animal, and she’d beaten him. Once.

He cocked a brow, sensing where her thoughts had gone. “More or less, but Veralie—” he trailed off, cursing under his breath when she left the security of the trees, heading straight for the center of the field.

Snatching her arm, he pulled her in close, his breath coasting over her cheek. “No one here needs to know who you are. Not until King Vesstan has announced you officially.”

“Yes, I’m well aware,” she said, rolling her eyes. His own darkened in answer, and she immediately ducked under her arm, twisting out of his grasp. “And no one here needs to die if they beat me in a fair fight, green eyes,” she added, giving him a pointed look.

“I make no promises.”

Ignoring his comment and leaving him where he stood, she made her way up to the closest Magyki. Wearing the same light armor she’d come to realize was the basic uniform in Naris, he sat near the outer edge of the yard, his weapon resting across his thighs as he knocked back his head to guzzle from a waterskin.

His long, black hair was tied back, emphasizing the sharp jawline she was starting to realize almost all Magyki had. He had golden-brown skin and light brown eyes set above a slightly crooked nose that looked similar to her own.

Hearing her approach, he glanced sideways at her, uninterested, only to immediately freeze and do a double take.

She waved awkwardly, pretending not to notice Jaren’s reaction to her approaching an almost half-naked male, alone. “Excuse me,” she said, making sure both her hands were visible and he could see she was unarmed.

Focusing on her next words, she tried to make her Thyabathi come out as smooth and natural as possible. “Could you please take me to whoever is in charge here? Or point them out?”

His eyes trailed along her body before returning their journey back up to her face, his full lips spreading into a slow grin. “And what if I told you I was the one in charge?”

“Are you?”

“For you, I will be,” he said, standing to his full height and stepping a little closer than necessary. “Doren Panaeros, at your service.”

An answering smile tugged at her lips, his comment reminding her so much of Trey, but it quickly fell when a lethal calm filled her chest, replacing the anger that had just been simmering there.