Zayn dropped onto the bench with a satisfied sigh, wiping sweat from his brow.
The wooden seat creaked under him, but he leaned back like a man who'd just finished his taxes early.
"Nice moves out there, swordsman," Bran said as he walked past, clapping a heavy hand on Zayn's shoulder.
Zayn grinned and shook it. "Go easy on him, big guy. He's still recovering from the emotional trauma I caused."
Bran snorted. "No promises."
As the axe-wielding giant made his way to the sparring field, Elisse nestled in beside Zayn, letting her head lean lightly on his shoulder.
Kara scooted in on his other side, her expression unreadable as usual, but her presence was close enough to tell Zayn she was watching too.
"I swear," he muttered, glancing between them, "I get into one swordfight and suddenly I'm furniture."
"Warm, comfy furniture," Elisse murmured, smiling up at him.
"Don't move," Kara added. "You're also a good armrest."
Zayn sighed theatrically but didn't budge.
