The palace was quieter now. The laughter and music from the feast had faded into distant noise, like a memory that didn't quite belong to the stillness of the night.
Aveloria walked quickly through the dim corridor, ignoring the guards who bowed as she passed. Her gown brushed against the stone floor as she turned toward the infirmary. She couldn't bring herself to stay in the feast after what had happened, not after Eirene's words.
She needed space, and more than that, she needed to see Galen.
When she entered the infirmary, the air smelled of herbs and antiseptic oil. The lamps were dimmed, and the healers crept between the beds.
"Is he awake?" she asked one of the physicians.
The older man looked up. "No, my lady. He fell asleep a while ago. His wounds are healing faster than expected. You should rest, too."
