Ronan Hale:
I leaned against the stone archway, arms crossed, my expression unreadable as I watched the scene unfold before me.
Elara stood beside me, her arms crossed, but her posture was far more relaxed than mine. Amused, even.
I wasn't amused.
Not in the slightest.
Because down in the training hall, Orin was standing just a little too close to Lucien.
Lucien, who rarely tolerated anyone near him, who always kept his distance, who was stiff and reserved with just about everyone—was standing there, guiding Orin's grip, adjusting his stance, his hands moving over Orin's like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Orin, of course, was eating it up.
He grinned every time Lucien so much as corrected his footwork, laughed when he was scolded, let himself be moved, and adjusted with an ease that made my jaw tighten.
He was practically glowing under Lucien's attention, eyes bright, his body completely at ease beneath the princess' touch.
