Gracela sighed. "No, of course not. Bel isn't like that with me. He probably respects me more than anyone in the world, but... I couldn't train him."
"And why not?" Victor asked, leaning against the railing of the arena box.
Once again, Victor's direct question surprised Gracela. She opened her mouth to answer, but all that came out was a barely audible whisper.
"Because... his expectations would never be met..."
Victor's sharp eyes caught the sadness in Gracela's gaze, a sadness that seemed to weigh more than any sword she had ever held. He sighed deeply, feeling the tension in the air. He didn't want to force an answer that Gracela clearly wasn't ready to give.
"Look," he whispered. "You don't have to carry this guilt anymore. I know you do, and you've done everything you could for Bel. I'm here to help you now, to repay Selvarum's hospitality and friendship. You don't have to worry anymore."
