The heavy door opened without the usual scrape of locks turning. No chains rattled. No guards shoved me forward. Eldra just stood there as she folded her arms. Flicking her sharp eyes over me once in a while.
"Come," she said. No explanation. No threat. Just the single word.
I followed her down the corridor—still in the same gray wool dress, my slippers on the stone.
My heart hammering so hard I could feel it in my throat. We passed iron doors, passed the familiar smell of damp and iron, until she stopped at a different one. Thicker. No slot at the bottom.
She pushed it open.
The room inside was larger than my cell. Two narrow cots. A single high window letting in pale winter light. A low table with bread, cheese, and a pitcher of water. And sitting on the cots—
Maeve and Jax.
Alive.
Whole.
