Grace
The Vale pack house feels smaller when I return.
Not physically, its halls are still wide, its stone walls still thick with history, but it no longer bends around me the way it should. Whispers trail in my wake. Glances linger too long. Someone has already noticed the bruising beneath my collarbone, the faint rasp in my voice when I breathe.
Good. Let them see it.
I walk through the front doors with my chin lifted and my spine straight, even as my muscles scream in protest. Pain is nothing. I've endured worse. My pride, however, cuts deeper, and it's the only wound that truly matters.
A servant rushes forward, eyes widening when she takes me in. "My lady… should I?"
"No," I snap. "Fetch my father."
She hesitates, then scurries away.
I don't slow as I cross t
