Ten days after the first dose, Alaric's recovery had progressed further than even Clara had dared hope, color returning steadily to his face, the constant undercurrent of pain that had shadowed his every movement finally beginning to ease.
The Citadel itself seemed to sense the shift, servants moving through the halls with a lighter step, the guards who had once regarded Clara with open suspicion now offering small nods of acknowledgment as she passed. Even Aldric had grudgingly begun softening his hostility, though he still maintained a careful distance whenever their paths crossed in the corridors.
The second dose, administered a week after the first, had proven less brutal than the initial purge, his body already partially cleared of the accumulated toxin and better equipped to handle
