"So this is where," Freya says, looking from Veric to Rhayne, then to me, "you're gathering the students who still think they'll walk out in one piece?"
She arrives the way she always does: chin high, eyes bright, confidence in excess. The three followers at her back aren't decoration. All of them are equipped, alert, and quiet, the type who don't need to look at their leader to know when to move.
Veric smiles without humor. "Did you learn nothing from the beating you took last time?"
The air in the southwest plaza shifts.
Freya turns her face to him slowly, as if she just heard a child insult the ocean. And she'd be the little Mermaid.
"I could kick everyone's ass here whenever I felt like it, prince. The difference is that some of you bleed at a very high political price."
