Evander's POV
I stood at the far end of the training ground, arms crossed, boots planted in the dirt. The wind was dry, carrying the scent of sweat, leather, and pride too thick for its own good.
My eyes were locked on Ravena. She looked calm, but I knew what was about to happen. The soldiers who had mocked her were about to see exactly what it meant to underestimate someone trained not by rumours, but by war.
Part of me was tempted to step forward and shout at them for breaking rank and disrespecting the woman I had just named General. But I held back because I wanted them to see Ravena's strength for themselves.
Was this what southern training had become? Loose tongues. Lazy discipline. Warriors who challenged commands like they were playing games. I didn’t train soldiers to questio
