The first sound Vera heard was wind.
Not screaming wind.
Not the howling fury of collapsing cathedrals or cracking ice.
Just wind.
Gentle. Salt-tinged.
She opened her eyes to a slanted ceiling of wooden beams and faint candlelight. Linen sheets covered her legs. Someone had changed her bandages.
She sat up slowly.
A nun appeared in the doorway, hands folded. “You're awake."
Vera blinked. “Where am I?"
“Coastal monastery. Far south of the capital. You were found half-frozen, carried in by a man who collapsed the moment we opened the gates."
Vera's breath caught. “Carlisle?"
The nun nodded. “He's alive. Resting in the west chamber. He asked for you."
---
When she reached his room, the door was cracked open.
Carlisle sat on a stool, staring at the sea through an arched window. N
