“In any case, I need to prepare your new guard,” Ferma said, beginning to rise.
“Aren’t you bothered?” Elena asked as she looked at the little bird in the fountain. “If my father really believed in you, he wouldn’t have added a newcomer to my guard.”
Elena did not need to turn to know that she had hit her mark. Ferma had trained her, raised her. There was no one in Ravence who knew her better than her beloved Ferma, and no one who Elena trusted more. But the Yumi was growing close to her retirement at fifty suns. Now, Elena wondered if Leo truly planned to replace her guards with his men.
Another string for him to pull, she thought ruefully.
“He made Yassen Knight your guard to keep him close,” Ferma said. There was an edge in her voice that made Elena flinch. “If he is planning anything with the Arohassin, or the Jantari, we will know. This is to keep you safe.”
“You and I can keep me safe.” She turned and squeezed the Yumi’s hand in apology. “We’re more than capable.”
Ferma said nothing, only squeezed her hand in response, then broke away. “You have training soon. Don’t be late.”
Elena nodded, and as she turned, she spotted that her diya was wavering. She rose quickly, walking to the small shrine in the corner of the room. Cupped the little flame as a breeze blew. Gently, she poured mustard oil into the bowl of the diya, then set it back beneath the feet of the Phoenix.
“May the Phoenix bless us with Her light,” she murmured.
A knock sounded at the door behind them. Elena turned to see Yassen Knight standing in her doorway. He had changed into the black-and-red uniform of a royal guard, one that brought out his impressive set of shoulders and chest, she noted. But the sleeves were slightly short, and she caught a glimpse of a dark band on his wrist before he tugged the fabric down.
Ferma stepped in front of him. “You can’t be here.”
“The king instructed me to come,” Yassen said.
“Not before your orientation.”
“The king sent me here,” he said simply.
“It’s all right.” Elena joined them, waving Ferma aside.
“Your Highness.” Yassen bowed his head. “The king said I am to start immediately.”
She did not answer, deliberately drawing out the silence, but Yassen did not shift nervously like the other guards. He met her gaze. From the way he stood, feet slightly apart, elbows out, Elena could tell that her first observation had been correct: He was a fighter.
And from the way he looked at her, Elena could tell he was sizing her up just as well.
But for what end, assassin?
“What kind of training do you have?” she asked.
“All kinds,” he responded.
Ferma bristled at the nonchalance in his voice, but Elena touched her arm. “My father may have picked you, but I decide whether you stay.” She nodded at Ferma. “You’ll spar with my Spear in training this afternoon.”
He glanced up at her guard, and for the first time, Elena noticed a tremor of doubt in his voice. “Against a Yumi?”
“If you have ‘all kinds of training,’ you should know how to fight a Yumi.” Elena let the ghost of a smile grace her lips.
“As you wish.”
Ferma stepped in between them and called down the hallway to the guard positioned there. “Please escort Yassen to the gamefield.”
“And, Yassen,” Elena said as he turned. “Mind your arm.”
He flinched, just slightly. But she knew her guess had been right.
Yassen bowed and walked away.
She had noticed it first when he had knelt before her. He had knelt on his left knee, keeping his right side angled away. And when he had bowed before her just now, she had noticed how his right shoulder crept back as if he was protecting a sore spot.
