Senna
The air felt thick tonight. Not with sickness, but with something else.
Bren was burning up. His leg infection, which I’d been fighting for days, was back with a vengeance. I pressed a cool cloth to his forehead, feeling the heat radiate through the linen.
"Hang on, Bren," I whispered, though he was out cold. Around me, the infirmary was quiet. I felt the familiar pull of worry, the ache of responsibility. These walls, this compound... they sometimes felt too big, too real. I focused back on Bren. He needed me.
A shadow fell over the bed. I didn't need to look up. Caius. Bren was one of his training warriors, so I knew he’d be asking. He’d already checked in twice this week.
"How is he?" Caius asked, his voice low, a rumble you could feel more than hear.
"Fever spiked again,"
