Seraphina's eyes fluttered open to the soft glow of candlelight filtering through silk drapes. The ceiling above her was unfamiliar carved oak, gold leaf, the crest of Solaria repeated in patterns she didn't recognize. For a long moment, she simply stared at it, her mind struggling to piece together where she was and how she had gotten there.
Then the pain hit.
It wasn't the sharp, immediate agony of a fresh wound. It was deeper, duller—the ache of something missing. Her eyes drifted down, following the lines of white bandages wrapped around her torso, her shoulder, and then—
Nothing.
Where her right arm should have been, there was only empty air. The bandages ended in a neat, careful knot at her shoulder, the fabric stained faintly pink but clean. The arm itself was gone. Completely gone.
'Oh.'
The thought was strangely calm. Detached. As if she were observing someone else's body, someone else's loss.
Then a familiar voice broke through the fog.
"Sera! Sera, you're awake!"
