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their words to be heard.
The sun was barely over the horizon,
judging by the light at the windows set high in
the Great Hall, and so many already lay
injured. So many.
Still they kept coming, and Elide kept
moving, her limp becoming a dull, then a
sharp ache. A minor pain, compared to what
the soldiers endured. Compared to what they
faced on the battlements.
She didn’t let herself think of her friends.
Didn’t let herself think of Lorcan, who had
not come to the chamber last night and had
not sought them out this morning. As if he
didn’t want to be near her. As if he’d taken
every hateful word she’d spoken to heart.
So Elide aided the clear-eyed healers, held
down screaming, pleading men, and did not
stop.