"Hey Annabel, how are you holding up after everything that happened yesterday?" Her tone is gentle, but I can hear the concern underneath.
I blink, trying to gather my surroundings only to remember my dreams will always be more clear now than my usual sight. The fog of the dream lingers in my mind. "I'm managing," I reply, forcing a smile. "Just… trying to find my place in all of this."
I listen, half-distracted by the faint sound of sparring outside. "Who's sparring out there?" I ask, my voice distant.
Dr. Lorre's voice is tinged with confusion. "How do you know they're sparring? They're all the way in the training arena."
I take a deep breath, trying to calm the lingering tension in my chest. "Isn't it obvious? I can hear them. They're talking about me. About my training. They think it's all just talk—that I'm nothing but a child being coddled by you for the good of your kingdom.
Dr. Lorre's voice cuts through the air, gentle yet firm. "Well, I think it's time you meet them."
I blink, shaking off the remnants of the dreamlike fog that clings to my mind. My senses seem sharper now, despite the lingering haze. "Wait Who?"
"The two sparring outside," she replies. "Julius and Kate. They've been at it all morning. It might be a good idea for you to see them in action—and for them to meet you."
A smile tugs at the corner of my lips, though it's a little more tentative than usual. "Julius and Kate, huh? The ones making all that racket out there?"
Dr. Lorre chuckles lightly, her tone full of knowing. "That's the ones. Julius is a fire mage, stage three, and Kate's a wind/earth mage—stage four. Both are powerful and not easily impressed."
I nod, listening closely, trying to picture them from the sound of their movements. Julius's fiery presence is hard to miss, even from a distance. The air crackles with his energy, vibrating through the space. Kate's presence is more elusive, but I can hear the subtle shift in the wind each time she moves. Both are strong, and their magic… I can feel it in the air around me. A dangerous but controlled power.
"Are they as fierce as they sound?" I ask, trying to suppress the excitement creeping into my voice.
"Oh, definitely," Dr. Lorre replies, her smile evident in her voice. "Julius has a way of lighting up the whole field when he's in the mood, and Kate… well, she's as calm as the earth she commands, but don't let that fool you. When she's pushed, she's just as devastating as any storm."
I listen intently, taking in her words, but more than that, I focus on the atmosphere around me. The pulse of their magic vibrates in the air, and it feels like it's charging me up too. The anticipation makes my pulse quicken.
"Both are ranked among the best. Top 30, which puts them above most stage 3 mages—though they're not quite at the top yet. Above them are mostly rank 2 and 1 mages, which… might have been a step too high for you just yet." She pauses, then continues with a knowing edge to her voice, "But Julius and Kate are perfect picks. They're strong enough to push you but not so far ahead that you'll be out of your depth."
I think about this for a moment, processing the information. The idea of facing mages who are both ranked among the top 30 feels like an exhilarating challenge.
"Do you really think I can take them on?" I ask, my voice quieter now, more reflective.
"I do," Dr. Lorre says simply. "You'll surprise them. I'm sure of it."
I don't reply immediately, but the fire in my chest grows, like the steady warmth of a well-contained flame. "Then let's go," I say, my voice firm. I'm ready.
Dr. Lorre doesn't move right away. I can feel her standing nearby—still, but not cold. Present. A steady kind of quiet.
"I've drawn a bath for you," she says gently. "Before we go meet Julius and Kate."
My fingers twitch at my sides. "Why?"
"Because it's been a long day. Because it might help you feel more yourself."
I almost ask what self? But I stay quiet. The courtroom is still fresh in my mind—the rustle of robes, the hollow silence after the judgment. The way they all talked around me like I was a creature on display.
"I thought maybe i could help clean you, you just look a bit down and your hands are all red from dried up blood." She pauses, "Also i found something for you to wear," she adds. "It's not much, just clean clothes. I thought it might feel better than the ones you came in."
I take a small inhale near my hands smelling the dried blood, it was Johans from when i tried to help him with the arrow. I didn't even notice it was there this whole time, of course people thought i was a monster. "I can do it myself," I say, not really knowing why.
"I know," she replies, calm and warm. "But I'd like to help. Just this once. If that's okay."
My throat feels tight. There's something about her voice—it isn't laced with fear, or suspicion. It doesn't ask me to prove anything. Just offers.
I nod.
She doesn't speak again. I hear her coat shift as she reaches for my hand, guiding me down the hall with steady steps. The floor turns smooth underfoot—tile now, warm from nearby vents. And the scent hits me next: faint lavender, mixed with something herbal. A calm, soft smell.
When we reach the bathing room, the air is damp and warm. The bath water gurgles softly as it settles. I hear the dip of steam curling in the corners.
I start to reach for the hem of my tunic, but my fingers hesitate. Before I can say anything, I feel Dr. Lorre's hands—gentle, slow.
"May I?" she asks.
I nod again.
She peels the tunic away carefully, like she's unwrapping something delicate. Her fingers brush lightly over my shoulder, down my arm. I flinch, not from pain, but from… something else. A feeling I don't have words for. When she kneels beside the tub and helps me lower in, the warmth of the water creeps around my legs, then my waist. It stings a little, where the skin is scraped, i must have gotten that when i fell of the horse, but it's not bad. Just real.
Dr. Lorre pours water over my back, using a soft cloth to wash the grime away. Her touch is careful, never too fast, never too rough. The blood lifts from my skin in layers, turning the water cloudy.
Something in my chest starts to tremble.
I try to hold it in—tighten my hands into fists, lock my jaw—but the shaking creeps up anyway. My breath stutters.
"I'm sorry," I whisper. I don't even know why. I just say it.
Her hand pauses. Then she cups the back of my head, her fingers threading gently through my hair.
"You have nothing to be sorry for."
But she doesn't know.
She doesn't know that I could've stopped it. That if I'd just reacted faster, Johan would still be alive.
It was one arrow. That's all it took. I could have caught it if i had my guard up.
He died warning me, telling me to run and never even got the satisfaction to see that I survived.
The tears hit hard—hot and silent at first, until a sound slips out of me, thin and helpless. My shoulders jerk, and I fold in on myself, arms crossed tight as if I can hold the hurt in.
"I should've saved him," I choke out. "He was good. He didn't deserve—he didn't—"
"I know," Dr. Lorre says softly. Her voice cracks, just barely. "I know, sweetheart."
The cloth slips from her hand, and I feel her arms wrap around me, pulling me close, even though I'm wet and trembling and probably scaring her.
"I tried," I whisper. "I really tried. But he—he still—"
"I know," she murmurs again, and this time her voice breaks. There's a tremble in her breath. "I'm so sorry, Annabel."
No one's said that to me yet.
Not after the trial. Not after the whispers on the street, not in my past life. Not after they listed the names of the dead like trophies or accusations.
She just holds me. Tight. Steady. Not because she has to. Not because she's afraid I'll break something.
Just because I'm breaking.
And I don't know how long we stay like that—her on the cold tile floor, arms around me in the bath—but for the first time since I arrived—for the first time in this whole life—I don't feel like a weapon.
Just a girl
Dr. Lorre doesn't speak for a while. She just holds me.
Eventually, the water cools and the shaking slows. I don't stop crying all at once—it fades in pieces, like the end of a storm that forgets it was ever violent. My breaths grow steadier. She helps me out of the tub without a word, wrapping me in something soft and warm. The fabric smells clean, like cotton and chamomile.
I dress slowly in the clothes she picked out. They fit better than what I had before. I don't know what color they are, or what they look like, but they don't feel borrowed or stiff. They just feel… clean. And mine.
When I'm ready, Dr. Lorre places a hand gently on my arm.
"Feel okay?" she asks, soft again, but lighter than before.
I nod.
She's quiet for a second. Then, almost like she's hesitating, she says, "I wanted to tell you something before we go."
I tilt my head slightly. "What is it?"
"I've already sent word to the nobility council," she says gently. "The minute the trial ended. I made it clear that part of your observation here includes locating your parents—if they're alive, we'll find them. And if they're not… we'll find out what happened. I promise you that, Annabel. Even if it takes time."
I don't know what expression is on my face. I don't know what she sees. But my chest feels strange. Like something loosened—just a little.
"What if they don't want me anymore ," I whisper, before I can stop myself. "Not after what they'll hear. About the elves. About the trial, when they find out i killed 6 people."
Dr. Lorre's hand finds mine.
"Then we'll help them see who you really are," she says. "And if they still don't… you'll still have people here. People who know better."
My throat tightens again—but it's not like before. It's quieter. Not grief. Not guilt.
Hope.
A small kind.
Dr. Lorre squeezes my hand, not hard, not forcefully like they did in my past life or like the soldiers here. Instead it's soft and comfortable.
She doesn't push. Doesn't rush me. Just walks beside me, her steps easy to follow, her hand a quiet guide through the halls. The scent of lavender fades behind us, replaced by the clearer, sharper air near the training fields.
I feel the shift before I hear it—magic humming through the air like static, the distant rumble of footfalls and clashing elements. The calm from earlier is still in my chest, but underneath it, something new flickers to life
Dr. Lorre leads me toward the training area, her hand resting gently on my arm. The sounds of the camp fade as we approach, but I can still hear the powerful rhythm of the sparring—a series of thudding footsteps, a crackling burst of fire, the sharp whoosh of wind cutting through the air. It's chaotic, but it's controlled chaos. There's something beautifully destructive about it.
We stop, and Dr. Lorre lets go of my arm, though I can feel her presence next to me. "Here we are," she announces. "They're right ahead." Let's get you introduced.