**Maureen**
They dressed me like a sacrifice.
That was the first thought that crossed my mind when the servants came into the infirmary with a pale gray gown and simple sandals. No jewelry. No warmth. No comfort. Just enough cloth to cover my body and remind everyone of what I was.
A slave.
The healer helped me sit up slowly. Pain flared in my lower stomach, sharp enough to steal my breath.
"Easy," she whispered. "You're still bleeding inside."
"I have to go," I said quietly.
She looked at me with pity. "You shouldn't even be standing."
"I know," I replied. "But if I don't, they'll come here instead."
That frightened her more than my words.
She helped me dress. My hands shook the entire time. When I stood, my knees nearly gave out, but I forced myself upright. I couldn't afford weakness—not today.
The door opened.
Stefan stood there.
For a moment, he didn't move. His eyes swept over me slowly, from my pale face to the way my hand hovered protectively over my stomach.
