She paused, her wings folding tighter against her back.
"After that, I wandered. I followed the rivers and the roads, slept in hollow logs and abandoned barns. I learned which berries were safe to eat and which flowers would keep me warm. Sometimes I found work—cleaning, sewing, watching over other people's children. People were wary of me at first, but I was small and quiet, and I never asked for much."
Uriel uncrossed his arms, letting them fall to his sides.
"Then the slavers came," Papillion said, her voice dropping. "They caught me in a wheat field outside a small town. I had been asleep under the stars, and I did not hear them until it was too late." She looked down at her hands, at the delicate silver lines on her palms. "That was three years ago."
Lin Yue's throat tightened. She shifted Auriel in her arms, the baby now feeding contentedly, oblivious to the weight of the words hanging in the air.
"Three years..." Lin Yue repeated softly.
