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children whose families sheltered in the keep
had taken up the task of emptying dirty tubs
and filling them with hot water every few
minutes. Along with the basins by the
wounded.
Yrene had balked to let children witness
such bloodshed and pain, but there was no one
else to do it. No one else so eager to help.
Anielle’s lord might have been a grand
bastard, but its people were a brave, noble-
hearted group. One that had left more of a
mark on her husband than his hateful father.
Yrene scrubbed her hands, though she’d
washed them before coming down here, and
shook them dry. They couldn’t waste their
precious few cloths on drying their hands.
Her magic had barely refilled, despite the
sleep she’d gotten. She knew that if she
looked to the battlements, she’d spy Chaol
using his cane, perhaps even atop the battle-