Chapter 14
With sleep evading me, I reached into my satchel, pulling free the leather-bound book tucked between sprigs of dried peppermint and crushed willowbark. The familiar scrape of charcoal against parchment steadied my breath.
I don’t think I’ll sleep tonight.
Every time I close my eyes, I see his face—the boy from the road. Blood pouring from his leg, his eyes full of fear. We saved him. I saved him. But it wasn’t clean. That moment was not an insignificant one, like the ones in my old healer’s books. It was real. It was messy. And it was terrifying.
I keep wondering what would’ve happened if I’d hesitated longer. If the others hadn’t fought so fast. If Erindor hadn’t…been who he is.
He taught me how to hold a dagger today. Told me to stab him.
I couldn’t.