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Summary
She wakes up next to the grace: her bones feel like molten metal, reforming in a cloud of agony, her flesh takes shape inside of her as she grits her teeth not to scream.
Soon enough the pain, the exhaustion feels like a terrible dream.
She leans to the side of the door but there’s only common foot soldiers: despite their numbers and weaponry, not seeing the looming shadow again is a weird comfort.
Margit the Fell.
Ofnir surely forgot to mention him, not that he gave her any useful information. Only threats and duties.Still, she will do what she must to go make a safe world for her daughter.