Kade was on the stone bench by the pump when Calen came out at dawn. He sat straight, the way Calen had told him to sit, with one arm pressed flat over his ribs. He had not lain down.
The bruise had spread overnight from his side into the dip under his arm, and it was the colour of a plum gone soft.
“The Duke has decided,” Kade said.
“Stand up,” Calen said.
Kade stood. It took him two breaths, and the second one came out through his teeth. He did not ask for help.
Liss stood by the water trough with her arms folded, and she watched him the way she watched everything, from the feet up.
Calen drew a line in the dirt with his heel. It ran across the yard from the trough to the foot of the bench.
“Your back foot stays behind this line,” he said. “Your front foot stays on the stone. Your hands stay low.”
