Chapitre 143: Ambrosia

DESI

I sat up, gasping for air, hungry for life. My hands clutched at my throat as memory flooded back - my throat had been slit, hadn’t it? I thought I was dead.

And yet…

Here I sat in a narrow bed of white, blankets trimmed with gold. On the side table, beside a golden goblet with droplets of condensation on its side, lay my sword and dagger, polished to a mirror-like shine. I grabbed the sword and held it before me, stretching my neck this way and that - no scar. No indication that anything had happened to me at all.

My thoughts clasped onto the only possible explanation - I am dead.

The door opened and Fiahre strode in. I saw other women at the door, but they stayed in the hall. Fiahre closed her eyes and exhaled a long breath.