For a few moments, neither of them spoke.
Melion studied the girl again.
Younger than she remembered. There had been rumors of Vaelion's daughter visiting the capital years ago, but she'd been just a shadow of a person then, quiet, shy, barely speaking above a whisper.
But this girl, no, this young woman, had blood on her sleeves, bruises on her arms, and eyes that had clearly watched something terrible happen recently.
Melion tilted her head. "You were taken from the city?"
Luneth's jaw worked. She looked away. "I was trying to help. I shouldn't have been there. I—" She cut off.
Melion waited.
Eventually, Luneth spoke again. "He appeared out of nowhere. White hair. I thought… I thought we could fight him. Vaelion tried. I tried."
Melion's chest tightened. "Maeven."
"That his name?"
She nodded grimly.
Luneth leaned back. "He was faster than anything I've ever seen. We didn't stand a chance. I think… he let us think we did. Then just—took me. Like I didn't weigh anything."
