Odette's POV
Mara kept insisting, her voice trembling in that way that always made me feel both guilty and irritated at once.
"Madam, please… let me stay. Just in case you need help. I'll stand far, I won't watch, I promise. Please."
At first, I wanted to argue. To snap that I didn't need anyone hovering over me like a fragile porcelain doll. But the more I heard her voice—thin, anxious, almost breaking—the more I realized she wasn't begging for me. She was begging for herself.
If I sent her away, she would panic the whole time. She'd probably collapse at the door, terrified that if something went wrong, Evander would kill her for not being there.
So, with a sigh, I nodded faintly. "Fine. Stay, if it makes you feel better."
Her exhale came quick, shaky, like she'd been holding her breath this whole time. "Thank you, Madam. It's safer this way too. You're already injured… if the cuts reopen, or if you faint, at least I'll be here."
