Freya strides away without looking back, indifferent to the buzz of voices rising behind her. She ignores the attention, uninterested in feeding into it or basking in the stunned whispers that follow her every step. The fight had proven its point, and she has no desire to waste another moment training today.

Briony lies sprawled on the ground longer than necessary, pressed down by disbelief and the sting of humiliation. Her palms dig into the dirt where Freya had thrown her with ...