By evening, Jae had grown restless. The white-washed walls of the infirmary seemed to close in tighter with every passing hour, the faint scent of herbs and sterilizing powder doing nothing to soothe his impatience.
He pushed himself upright on the bed, rolling his shoulders with deliberate exaggeration, testing his strength. His body still ached faintly, but nowhere near the crushing exhaustion that had pinned him down earlier.
The head healer, an older woman with sharp eyes and hands that never shook, caught sight of him standing. She frowned, her lips pulling tight. "You're not going anywhere yet," she said, coming to his side. "You arrived here half-broken. That kind of recovery doesn't happen in a day."
Jae gave her a disarming smile. "You underestimate me, Healer. I feel well enough to stand, walk, maybe even run. And lying here isn't doing me any good."
