Ravenna's POV
The banquet hall was silent except for the ragged, shallow breaths of the patriarch on the floor.
My hands were slick with his blood, the metallic tang clinging to my fingers. I had chosen to violate every unwritten rule of this society—exposing myself and exposing what I could do. I shouldn't have taken a risk like that. But in that moment, I didn't care. He was alive and breathing; that was all that mattered to me. The consequences could come later.
But yet no one moved. No one thanked me. No one even exhaled a single gust of breath. They just stared—dozens of eyes fixed on me behind masks of silk and false refinement. Some gazes burned with suspicion, as if I'd used witchcraft instead of medical skill. Others with disdain, sneering silently: How dare she touch h
