Mira's POV
I went back to the infirmary partly because I needed something to do with my hands, and partly because I couldn't stop thinking about the way Adrian had looked at the floor beneath my feet, the way Rowan's suspicion had settled over the whole morning like a fog that hadn't lifted even hours later.
Folding linens seemed a reasonable enough distraction from all of it.
Petra put me to work almost immediately, the way she always did, and for a while the rhythm of it, gathering, folding, stacking, helped quiet the constant churn of questions in my head. Old Maren worked at her usual station near the window, grinding something fragrant in her mortar, occasionally glancing my way with an expression I couldn't quite read.
She waited until Petra stepped out to fetch more supplies bef
