The next morning, I woke with a strange flutter in my stomach. It wasn't pain or illness, but it was just something unfamiliar.
I remained beneath the sheets for a moment, staring at the pale canvas ceiling of the tent while the distant sounds of the camp filtered in.
Everything was as it should be. Yet my body felt slightly out of rhythm.
When I pushed myself upright, a wave of dizziness brushed past me, light but noticeable enough to make me pause. My fingers instinctively reached for the edge of the bedside table.
I let out a quiet breath.
Ridiculous.
It had only been a day since Lucretius left for the palace. The war had been pressing against my shoulders without mercy. Lack of sleep, endless calculations, constant vigilance.
Of course, my body would protest eventually.
St
