The Voiceless Choir
Kael slept for almost seven hours.
This time, there was no negotiation.
Sylphie remained in the room until he fell asleep, Umbra occupied the shadow beneath the bed, and Amelia confiscated not only his sword but also the nine pages delivered by the First Archive. When Kael woke, sunlight was already passing through the curtains, and the pain in his body had finally diminished to something bearable.
He sat up slowly.
His broken fingers remained immobilized, but his ankle responded without protest. His shoulder still hurt when he rotated his arm too far, although his internal channels no longer felt as though they were about to tear with every circulation of mana.
Sylphie was sitting near the window reading a report.
"How long?"
"Seven hours and twenty-three minutes."
Kael blinked.
"You counted?"
"Yes."
"That seems obsessive."
