The chamber had grown quiet again by the time Alina opened her eyes. Sleep had never fully claimed her—it came in shallow dips, broken by jolts of heat in her veins and the memory of silver light flickering in her palms. When she sat up, the coverlet slid from her shoulders, cool against the sweat still dampening her skin.
The morning outside was slow to gather. Shadows clung to the corners of her room, reluctant to leave, while the sky beyond the balcony shivered with pale gray clouds. She rose, pulling her shift tighter, and walked to the basin. The water there was still and glassy, reflecting her face back at her—drawn, tired, yet different.
She lifted her hand. For a breath, she thought she saw it again—that faint silver sheen, as though her fingers held some echo of starlight. Then
