"You could have taken the exam yourself," Grayson muttered in a low voice.

Marcus, standing on her right, started to make excuses, but she shook her head. He could, of course, but the recruits were assigned to her, and any mistake on their part would reflect on her reputation. After the rumors about her connection with the people from Zaun, this was the last thing she needed. Even if the rumors weren't rumors at all.

"And what are they taught at this academy?" The woman replied grumpily, coming down from the observation stand, striding up to one of the three recruits, putting her hands on his shoulders. "Keep your body straight, relax your elbow. You don't want to knock your shoulder out, do you?"

Glancing over his shoulder, the guy nodded, intending to answer, but he was interrupted by a girlish voice that Grayson was able to distinguish among hundreds of others. A talented recruit who graduated from the academy with the highest score and a recommendation from the rector himself, who managed to become famous among the peacekeepers for her dedication, which the sheriff called stupidity. Would an intelligent person rush into hell on his first assignment, ignoring the orders of a senior officer?

"You didn't have problems with your position before," the woman remarked with a slight irony in her voice, pressing her palm on the girl's lower back, pulling her shoulder back a little with her other hand. Their gazes crossed, and her palm rested more confidently on her side, brushing her fingers against the curve of her thigh.

Sometimes it seemed to Grayson that she was doing this intentionally, in order to attract her attention: ignoring orders, injuring herself, turning to her, to the Piltover Sheriff for help, and even taking the wrong position, although her success in shooting was no secret to anyone!

And everything was forgiven to her. Grayson was willing to forgive those eyes a lot, and it was becoming a serious problem, especially for Grayson herself, who had no right to be so complicit with her subordinate.