"Yeah," Verena said, tightening the wraps around her wrists. "I'm here to practice. Nothing else."
Raphael took a hesitant step forward. "Can I… at least explain myself?"
She let out a bitter breath, eyes locked on the training dummies instead of him.
"Bold of you to assume I'm in the mood to listen," she said coolly. "You've already done enough, Raphael. More than enough."
There was a pause. He really had done a lot of wrong. In the novel, he never faced a single consequence for what he did to her.
Verena was brushed aside, written off as little more than an irritating obstacle. To the readers, she was just the villainess. Loud, dramatic, disposable.
"Just humor me for once," she added, stepping into the arena. "Pick up your sword. We're here to train. That's all."
