AVIONA'S POV
I sat before the mirror, watching my reflection as Selka wove the last strands of my hair into a tight braid. Each twist and pull was precise, deliberate—perfectly suited to the disciplined look I would need for what lay ahead.
When Selka finally stepped back and gave a small nod of satisfaction, I remained seated, but my mind was elsewhere.
What had I been thinking, agreeing so readily when King Faelan asked if I wanted to train?
At the time, I had been caught up in gratitude, still basking in the warmth of my new nest. It had seemed like a good idea then—a chance to grow stronger, to be useful, to prove I wasn’t just fragile, just helpless.
But beneath that, I knew the truth: there would always be threats, those who would tear at the fragile peace. I couldn’t rely on ot
