Instead, they practiced Loyal Stance from sunrise to sunset in the narrow passage weaving up the tower like a snake around a throat. In the morning, they started at the tower’s base. By sunset, they reached its peak. Iron’s quick learning surprised even Sander. When once he could hardly remain upright, now Iron nearly equaled Ayska’s skill. He suspected his kiss made her uncomfortable and the unease had bled into her confidence as a duelist and a teacher. That shamed him more than anything. Iron needed the strong Ayska, the wisecracking, smarmy Ayska who’d gotten under his skin so much in Ormhild. That Ayska didn’t have any faults. Now, she was like the Six. Something admired, but imperfect. Why then did he still want to be near her sunrise to long after sunset? Nothing made sense. Maybe his new weapon gave him some kind of power and skill the others couldn’t comprehend. While everyone saw the simple steel blade, Iron knew the truth. This gently arced sword that glowed day or night, light as a feather and sharper than any steel, it must grant him some kind of godly boon.
