LENA
The medical wing room was my haven and my cell for three days now. Comforting and constricting, crammed with anxious healers who watched my every breath as though I might break if they spared their scrutiny. I sympathized with their coddling me—I had overstrained my body and my magic in the battle, way past the point of safety—but I was getting really claustrophobic.
“And you must rest,” Elena said for the hundredth time, fanning my pillows and settling me in even though I protested. “Your body is healing from four spells back to back, never mind the residuals of childbearing and past damage.”
“I’ve been dormant for three days,” I said, attempting to sound not irritated. "I feel fine."
“You’ve keeled over twice today, yesterday you went down twice trying to assist the wounded,” El
