I found Nessa in the corridor outside my room that evening, arranging a fresh tray of bandages with more focus than the task required, and something about the tightness in her shoulders told me she had been waiting for me rather than simply working.
"You did well today," she said, without looking up. "In the hearing."
"Was that meant as a compliment?"
"I am not certain yet." She finally met my eyes, and whatever careful neutrality she had worn since our first meeting had cracked slightly, just enough for something more honest to show through. "My brother died in a Silverwood raid four years ago. I have spent four years hating your pack with my whole chest. It is strange to stand here now and find myself less certain than I was this morning."
I did not know what to say to that. Grief wa
