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... different.
Not stronger. Not faster.
Clearer.
The flow Belle had shown me hadn’t faded when the lesson ended. It lingered in my muscles, in the way my weight settled naturally into my heels, in how my grip loosened without sacrificing control. My body remembered. It wanted to move.
Belle noticed immediately.
She didn’t say anything. She just lifted her scabbard again and shifted her footing by half an inch.
That alone sent a chill through me.
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