The morning light had already filled the air when I woke up. The fortress hummed two hours deep into its rhythm: boots on stone, distant orders, the low pulse of another operational day. I had slept through the first light briefing. My body had simply refused to rise.
Joren sat in the wide chair beside the window, the one I used for Sura’s sessions. She held a book in her lap but wasn’t reading. Her presence filled the room without pressing, the way only someone who had kept long vigils knew how to do.
I pushed myself up on one elbow. “How long?”
“Two hours.” Her voice remained soft. “Victor came first. Stood in the doorway watching you sleep. Then he found me and asked if I would stay until you woke.”
Something warm and complicated turned over in my chest. I nodded and swung my legs o
