“Impressive,” I murmur. “Your resilience continues to surprise me.”
She swats lightly at my arm.
“Stop.”
“Very well,” I say easily, though the faint smile remains.
The moment of levity fades quickly as the shouting outside grows louder. Elowen follows my gaze toward the window. Her expression tightens.
“That’s the fire.”
“Yes.”
She sits up slowly, the blanket still wrapped around her shoulders.
“Is it bad?”
“It is… visible.”
She exhales slowly.
“Because of me.”
I reach for her wrist before the thought can spiral further.
“Elowen.”
She meets my gaze.
“You did not wake and decide to burn a building,” I say calmly. “Your mind reacted to fear before control could intervene.”
“That still means people lost something because of me.”
“Yes, princess.”
The honesty surprises her.
Then I add quietly, “But it also means you did not destroy half the village.”
Her brow furrows slightly.
“That is supposed to make me feel better?”
“In relative terms, yes.”
She studies me for a moment before shaking her head softly.
“You have a very strange definition of reassurance.”
“My people are not known for delicate comfort.”
I rise from the bed and cross toward the window again, the distant fire illuminating the village square in chaotic dancing of light. More men are gathering now. Too many.
Lanterns bob through the dark streets as voices rise in angry waves. Elowen steps beside me a moment later. The bond warms faintly as she leans slightly against my arm without thinking.
“You should pack what you need,” I say quietly.
She stiffens immediately.
