Damon
I told the villagers my name was Corin and that I’d come north to rest.
A wolf wounded, I said. Broken ribs over a broken heart. Nothing that would keep me from riding again soon. They believed me easily enough. No one here was suspicious. No one here had reason to be.
I rented a small room above the tavern on the edge of the square. It smelled of stale ale and cedar smoke, but it had a window that faced the apothecary. That was all I needed.
Days passed in the dull rhythm of someone else’s life. I sat at the tavern table pretending to read maps while the world outside moved without me. And Lila, she was always moving.
Every morning, Lila crossed the square with a basket in her arms, two young children skipping behind her through the snow. They were both small and bright, their
