Aurelia did not sleep.
The pain in her chest had settled into something quieter but more dangerous—an ache that pulsed not with injury, but limitation. Every breath reminded her of what she had lost when she chose to stand instead of strike.
Distance.
She could feel it now, as tangibly as a missing limb.
The fire burned low beside them, its light barely touching the edges of the basin. Seris sat across from Aurelia, sharpening a blade she did not intend to use unless forced. Lio paced, agitation bleeding into every step.
Neris slept fitfully, murmuring names Aurelia did not recognize.
"They'll come again," Lio said finally. "Sooner this time."
"Yes," Aurelia replied.
"And you can't do that again," he added, gesturing vaguely toward her chest. "You nearly collapsed."
"I know."
"That means next time—"
"I'll have to choose differently," Aurelia finished.
Seris looked up sharply. "No."
Aurelia met her gaze. "I didn't say how."
