Emma's POV:
Three days pass like a fever dream.
I train with Ellie's unit every dawn, learning basic combat forms my body protests after months of captivity. How to hold a sword without dropping it. How to block without leaving myself wide open. How to move like a warrior instead of prey.
The other guards are kind, patient with the "new recruit." They have no idea I'm actually a woman. The potion works perfectly.
But every evening, I look for silver hair in the training yard. He never appears.
"Lord Ethan's handling pack business," Ellie says when I ask, her tone carefully casual. But her eyes are worried in a way that makes my stomach clench.
On the third night, commotion erupts in the courtyard.
"Clear the entrance!"
"Get a healer—NOW!"
I push through the crowd and freeze.
Etha
