Aria woke up before dawn.
The servants' quarters were silent. The other girls were still asleep, their breathing soft and even in the darkness. She dressed quietly, while putting on her wool tunic, soft boots, she folded her blanket at the head of the bed. Her body no longer ached when she moved and her lungs no longer burn while taking a breath.
A month ago, she had been dying on a border. Now she was waking before dawn to train.
She slipped out of the room and made her way to the kitchens.
The kitchen was already busy and warm. Gretta was at the hearth, stirring a pot of porridge. The ovens glowed red and the scent of fresh bread filled the air.
Freya sat at the wooden table near the door with a bowl of stew and a hunk of bread. She was still in her stable clothes, hay dusted her sl
