Valtira.
The tears that had wrung my chest raw eventually slowed, fading into the kind of hollow quiet that left my body aching in places grief had settled too deeply.
My maid helped me unpack what remained of my belongings, her hands steady, soft, and efficient as she carefully showed me how to fold my dresses to fit inside the small wooden drawers.
She smoothed each blanket, arranged my trinkets on the narrow shelf, and made the thin mattress look less like a reminder of humiliation and more like a bed someone could survive a night on.
I ran my fingers across the neatly folded blankets, the smoothed-out mattress, the little corner she’d made mine. I tried to breathe through the ache in my chest as I whispered a quiet thank you.
“Let me get you something to eat, my lady,” before sli
