Page 92 of The Fifth Heir

“Which is why you should avoid giving him evidence that you’re reckless.”

“I’m not asking you to throw me off the terrace.”

He looked at the drop beyond the railing. “That wasn’t under consideration until you mentioned it.”

“I need to learn something useful.”

The words came out sharper than I intended. I had spent years making myself useful in quiet ways—cataloguing, translating, noticing what people with louder gifts overlooked. None of that would stop a blade.

“You already did.”

“What?”

“You coordinated four elemental paths under pressure.”

“I read the runes.”

“You kept your head.”

“While sitting on the floor.”

“An underrated survival position.”

The answer might have reassured me if I hadn’t watched the others complete the assessment. Leander could freeze an entire chamber. Rafe controlled wind strong enough to rotate metal vanes, Sebastian moved Shadow through solid stone, and Torren fused a broken bridge while standing over a trench of fire.

I could read.

Being useful inside one malfunctioning Trial did not make me prepared for the next.

“Teach me how to defend myself,” I said.

Torren studied me.

The teasing disappeared from his expression. “Against what?”

“Anything that reaches me before one of you can.”

“That is a long list.”

“Then start with the most likely.”

He returned the practice sword to the rack.

“No weapons?”

“You’re not ready for one.”

“I have held a sword before.”

“Ceremonially?”

“Master Orin makes every keeper learn how to move the weapons in the relic collection.”

“That isn’t the same as using one.”

“I know.”

Torren selected two padded gloves from a storage chest and tossed one pair to me.