ETAN
Etan trembled. He'd almost killed his dearest friend. But Borsche seemed unaffected. He remained unmoving, because he planned to keep his skin, but he flashed a smile. "Just keeping you on your toes."
Etan dropped the knife to the floor with a clang and backed away until the back of his legs hit the bed. He sat heavily, gaping at his man. "Perhaps we can find another way to train? These surprise attacks are… risky. I'm wound tighter than a Mandolin string right now."
"As you should be," Borsche said coolly, apparently unconcerned by how closely he'd stepped to death. "To look at it, you'd think this castle is the site of a celebration of unity. But many, many plots are simmering just below the surface, Etan. And your family, your people are the target of many."
He dropped his face in his hands. "Yes, I heard," he muttered.
