The stronghold moved as if a festival approached. Servants carried folded cloth through the halls, warriors discussed security for the full Moon, and the elders walked with quiet certainty, as though the outcome had already been decided.
Mira refused to let the movement define her. seven days, she repeated the number each morning when she woke and each night before she closed her eyes. The countdown pressed on her chest like a physical weight, but she refused to let it rush her into panic.
She would not prepare like a bride, she would prepare like a survivor, which meant control, which meant clarity, and that meant deciding who she was without the bond shaping the answer for her.
On the first morning after the council decree, Mira left her chamber before sunrise. She dressed in plain tr
