Renard now lay in the infirmary bed, his upper body bandaged, the scent of healing salves heavy in the air. Faint burn marks still lined his chest and arms. He felt the burn but the taste of complete defeat masks the pain.
The academy healer hovered nearby, carefully applying more ointment, though her hands trembled slightly. Not from haste, but from nerves.
Despite her years of experience, she didn't enjoy treating this particular student.
Renard Halworth was powerful, noble, and notoriously volatile. He lashed out for the smallest reasons. A bruise applied too hard or a potion that stung too much, any of it could earn a sharp glare or a snapped insult.
She'd seen it often enough to know his pride was delicate.
But today… Something was different.
He hadn't said a word since arriving. He hadn't thrown a fit or shouted or demanded faster treatment. He just lay there, staring at the ceiling, with expression blank.
No, actually its more than blank. He looks defeated.
