WREN'S POV
The hours between the training yard and whatever waited for me that evening stretched out longer than I knew what to do with, my body sore in ways that felt almost good, a clean ache instead of the hollow, grief-soaked exhaustion I'd carried through most of the last eight months. I washed the sweat and dirt from the morning off in the small stone basin in my quarters, changed into the one other set of clothes Silas had packed for me, and sat on the edge of the bed for a long while, not quite ready to face the rest of the day.
Hunger eventually won out over reluctance. I hadn't eaten more than a few bites since the tray left outside my door the day before, and my stomach had started making its displeasure known loudly enough that I couldn't ignore it any longer. I made my way t
