Seraphine's POV
In the morning, the scent of the healer was still detectable on the stone. She had been brought down during the night, and she re-bandaged my stomach. She worked quietly, asked no questions, offered no comfort, and made no promises. She just did her job and left.
The bandage held tight now. My stomach, however, was empty. I saved the water: I didn't dare drink the remaining half in the canteen, fearing they might disappear for days again.
Towards noon, the rhythm of the corridor changed once more. The sound of the boots became crisp and synchronized. The keys no longer rattled needlessly. Every movement had its precise place.
The scarred guard and the young man appeared at the bars. Behind them, the cloaked man. And then the fourth, the one whose presence made the air c
