The moment the door shut behind them, Elysia felt the weight of the world lift just slightly.
Not entirely.
But enough to breathe.
The room was still warm from earlier. Golden candlelight flickered across the polished obsidian floors and soft, plum-colored drapes.
It should have felt surreal, stepping from a battlefield to this velvet quiet, silk sheets, perfumed shadows but instead, it felt like the only real thing left in her universe.
She sat on the edge of the bed, her legs still aching, her chest tight, the echo of battle ringing in her ears like a fading scream. But the pain… the wound… it was gone.
The healers had done their work with ruthless efficiency. Not even a scar remained.
Still, something in her trembled.
And then Malvoria was there.
She didn't say anything at first.
She didn't need to.
