The training hall was quiet except for the drip of water somewhere in the stone walls. I sat on a bench near the weapon racks, fingers curled into fists to stop the shaking. My knuckles were scraped raw, blood dried in the creases. The ambush had rattled me more than I wanted to admit.

Darius appeared in the doorway without a sound. He carried a basin of water and strips of linen, moving like he'd done this a thousand times before.

"Let me see."

I didn't argue. My body ached too much ...