The training yard was empty except for us.

Dante had cleared it, posted guards at every entrance, and now stood in the center looking at me like I was a problem he needed to solve.

“Take off the dress,” he said.

I blinked. “What?”

“You can’t train in silk and leather. Lyra, get her something she can move in.”

Lyra disappeared and returned with simple training clothes—loose pants, a fitted tunic, boots. I changed behind a screen, hyperaware of Dante’s presence on the other ...