Chapter 64: Paris and the Question He Doesn’t Ask

The sword felt different in the cold.

Not heavier — different. The grip absorbed the temperature of the air rather than the hand, and the first twenty minutes of the morning drill were always slightly wrong in a way that corrected itself as the metal warmed. Lysander had learned this in the first winter and had developed the habit of beginning the drill earlier in cold weather, working through the wrongness until it became rightness, which took longer when you were also trying to think about something else.

He was thinking about Fylon’s four sources.

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