Elara pov

The scent of blood still clung to my palms.

I’d scrubbed the king’s chamber until my arms trembled from overuse, and now, back in the lower corridors, the ache pulsed like a second heartbeat.

The hall was darker here water ran down the stone walls, torchlight too low to reach the ends. I found Von where I always did by the cracked arch outside the mess hall, sitting on a crate like it was a throne.

He looked up, eyes softening at the sight of me. “You look like ...