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Sees me. This time I know. Definitely. We look at each other across thirty yards. That's all. Then someone reaches him. "Chief!" Of course. Rhyven looks away. I do too.

At six, dinner. Caelen doesn't come. Rhyven doesn't.

I eat anyway. All of it. Spite remains useful.

"I'm proud of you." Nyra says.

I glare. "Never say that again."

Cassian points at my empty plate. "Growth."

"I'll kill you both." Good. Normal.

At six forty-five, I can't breathe properly. Not literally. Enough. The walls feel close. The room feels loud.

Everyone keeps talking. The clock exists too aggressively. Nine. Nine. Nine.

I stand. "I'm going for a run."

Nyra looks toward the window. "Now?"

"Yes."

"Eirea—"

"I'm fine." She stops. Good. Because I am. Technically.

I change. Tie my hair back. No weapons except one dagger. Academy grounds only. Then I run.

At first, I follow the southern path. Then west. Then up toward the ridge. Then down. No plan. Just movement. My legs burn after twenty minutes. Good.

My lungs after thirty. Better. I keep going. I don't think about deployment. I don't think about four hours. Or Elarion. Or Caelen. Or Rhyven. Especially not Rhyven. At forty-five minutes, I nearly stop.

Don't. One hour. Exactly. When I finally slow, sweat is running down my spine. My legs feel unstable.

Heart pounding. Breathing too hard. Everything physical. Simple. Good.

The Academy is beginning to darken when I return.

Seven fifty-eight. One hour before deployment preparations move to the final field. I climb North Residence stairs. Slowly. My shirt sticks to my skin. Hair damp. I need water. Shower. Food. Probably.

Room 304 door is partly open. I frown. Nyra? I push it. Stop.

Rhyven is standing in my room. My brain stops too.

He's near the bookshelves. Back half turned. Deployment clothes. Black. Heavy boots. Weapons already strapped. Flight coat lying over the back of my chair. His hair is slightly damp. Probably showered. Probably then immediately found more work to do. He is holding one of my books. Of course.

"What are you doing."

Rhyven looks over. His eyes move over me. Sweaty.

Red-faced. Breathing hard. His expression changes. "What happened."

"I ran."

"Why."

"Exercise."