Loccy guarded a bowl of oat porridge for the child while the unlocked recovery room remained open behind them.
The child could leave the table whenever she wanted, and Loccy kept that path open beside her chair.
Down the quiet hallway, the bedroom doorway stood completely open without the iron latch to bar the threshold.
A plain strip of dark cloth hung from the settlement's outer gatepost, marking a solemn period of municipal mourning.
Two separate territories grieved the fallen prince for vastly different reasons, yet both honors remained entirely honest and dignified.
Hajin sat on the bench, keeping his right linen sleeve rolled neatly above his scarred, healing shoulder.
Loccy sat on her straw mattress, leaving the bowl of oat porridge on the bedside table where the child could reach it without moving either splinted arm.
The protected child watched from the corner, dipping a crust of bread into a matching bowl with quiet focus.
