Alexandra stood just inside the private wing with the door sealed shut behind them, its wards settling with a soft, final hum. The corridor outside might as well have ceased to exist.
Vaelira dangled in the thin girl's grip, boots barely brushing the floor, fingers twitching weakly as her body struggled to remember how to breathe. Her face had gone an ugly shade between red and purple, eyes glassy, mouth opening and closing soundlessly.
Alexandra looked down at her.
And felt… nothing.
That realization hit her harder than the scene itself.
She should have been sick. She should have been shaking, heart pounding, bile clawing up her throat. Violence had always done that to her, especially ever since Maximilian. Raised voices, sudden movements, and even aggressive posturing made her stomach knot and her hands tremble. Especially when a man was present…
And yet now?
