The crowd dispersed slowly, reluctantly, as if they could not bear to leave the moment behind. They drifted away in small groups, their voices still buzzing with excitement, their eyes still flickering back to the ring where I stood with Kaelen. The trial had become legend before it was even over, a story they would tell their children and grandchildren—the day the Southern lady proved herself a Northerner.
Kaelen released my hand, but his presence remained, a warmth at my side that had nothing to do with temperature. He looked at me, his winter-gray eyes soft with something I was only beginning to understand.
"You need rest," he said quietly. "And healing. I'll send for Marta."
I shook my head, though my body screamed in agreement. "Later. I need a moment first. Just... a moment."
