She found Sera in the training ring.
Not during a session — after one. Petra had left, the equipment was being put away, and Sera was wrapping her hands the way she did when a session had run long enough that her knuckles ached in the specific way that meant she'd pushed past where she should have stopped.
Tavri stood at the ring's edge.
She had been at Shadowmere for four months now. She had a room in the east wing, a role helping Zane with the archive's cross-referencing — her memory for names and dates from her two years in Dena's network had turned out to be useful — and a place at the table that nobody questioned anymore.
But she still stood at the edges of things. Doorways. Ring boundaries. The specific posture of someone who had spent two years being useful from the outside and
