Roman stepped forward and adjusted her gently. "Too stiff. Balance here." He knelt slightly and tapped the inside of her knees.
Julie let out a sudden giggle, biting her lip as she instinctively shifted away from his fingers. "Sorry—ticklish," she said, laughing quietly.
Roman paused, raising an eyebrow. His serious expression didn't falter, but a small flicker of amusement passed through his eyes.
Then—his gaze settled back into razor focus.
"Julie," he said lowly, his tone dropping back into command. "This isn't a game."
Her laughter died in her throat.
She stood straighter, eyes wide. "Right. Sorry."
Roman didn't say more. He stepped back, gesturing again. "Bend. Keep your left hand closer to your cheek. Right hand here."
Julie nodded quickly and obeyed, her face now flushed—not from embarrassment, but from knowing that for the next hour, she was no longer the girl in slippers.
She was the girl being prepared to survive.
Julie adjusted again.
