The castle was quiet in the morning, not like the packhouse had been.

There were no shouted orders. No crashing footsteps. No Mira. Just birdsong from the open window, the slow creak of trees swaying outside, and the soft scrape of a tray being set down beside my bed.

I blinked myself awake to find a girl with short, dark curls pulling the curtains back. She was trying her very best to be quiet, probably because she didn't want me to wake up.

Her eyes met mine for only a second before ...