Chapter 61. Moonfire and Shadow

Mira stood in the center of the tent, the thin fabric walls whispering around her like the breath of the night wind. The air was close—warm with lantern heat, thick with the scent of rose oil and lavender that someone had scattered across the woven rugs beneath her bare feet. She tried to steady her breathing, but it came shallow, unsteady, as if her lungs had forgotten the rhythm of calm. Her palms, pressed tightly against the soft fall of her gown, felt damp with nervous sweat. The silk clung to her, deceptively light for how heavy her limbs felt.

Beside her, Lyssa moved with a measured grace, smoothing Mira’s hair with hands that had once braided the locks of noblewomen and rebels alike. Her fingers were soft, practiced, but there was something desperate in the way she lingered—tugging at errant strands, flattening imaginary creases, as if by perfecting Mira’s appearance she could protect her from everything else that waited beyond the tent flap.

Across the room, Sere