Senna's sharp voice cut through the moment like a blade.Thalia looked up to find the Northern woman striding toward them, her expression tight with disapproval.
"This is not a reunion of slumdwellers," Senna said coldly."You have a job to do.Continue processing arrivals, or I'll find someone who can maintain an appropriate distance."
Thalia released Zanaya, stepping back with practiced military precision even as her cheeks burned with anger at Senna's dismissive words."Yes, Commander," she replied, the formality like ash in her mouth.
She turned back to Zanaya, forcing her voice to remain steady."Find a place to rest," she said, gesturing toward the side of the hall where refugees were being given water and simple food."I'll check on you later."
Zanaya nodded, wiping tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand."Thank you," she whispered, then moved away toward the indicated area, her steps unsteady.
Thalia watched her go, then forced herself to turn back to the ledger, to continue the process of recording names and stories that all blurred together in her mind.But behind her practiced efficiency, her thoughts spiraled with images of Verdant Port in flames, of storm-wracked streets, of her mother and sister fleeing before a wave of water and destruction.Of their possible fates, each more terrible than the last.And beneath it all, the weight of her own helplessness, trapped here at Frostforge while Roran faced execution and her family faced unknown perils.
Her limbs felt like lead as she worked, mechanically recording details, asking questions, directing refugees to food and shelter.But her mind was far away, lost in the burning streets of Verdant Port, searching desperately for two faces she might never see again.
CHAPTER TEN
The mess hall's usual clamor had transformed into something more subdued—a murmur punctuated by the scrape of spoons against bowls and the occasional cough.Thalia stared at the pale gruel in her bowl, watching steam curl into the frigid air like departing spirits.Around her, the usual sea of Frostforge uniforms was now interspersed with the tattered clothing of refugees, their haggard faces and hollow eyes a stark reminder of the war that had stolen their homes.The hall felt both fuller and emptier somehow—more bodies pressed into the space, yet less food on each plate, as if the academy itself were stretching thin under the weight of its new responsibility.
Thalia pushed her bowl away, untouched.Her stomach had twisted into knots at dawn, when the bell had rung to signal the tribunal's reconvening.Today, Roran's fate would likely be sealed.The thought of food made her throat constrict, as if her body were rejecting sustenance while Roran sat in chains, awaiting judgment.
Across from her, Zanaya hunched over her own meager portion, scraping the sides of her bowl with methodical precision.The girl's dark eyes flicked up occasionally, surveying the hall with the wariness of someone who had learned to stay alert even during moments of rest.She had braided her tangled hair since yesterday, the simple act of grooming a small reclamation of dignity.
"Here," Thalia said, sliding her bowl across the rough wooden table."I'm not hungry."
Zanaya hesitated only a moment before accepting the offering, her thin fingers curling around the bowl's edge."Are you sure?"she asked, though her eyes had already fixed on the food with undisguised longing.
"Take it," Thalia insisted, her voice gentler than she'd intended."Please."
No further encouragement was needed.Zanaya bent over the second helping, eating with the careful efficiency of someone who had known true hunger.Thalia watched her, finding a strange comfort in the simple act of providing nourishment to someone who needed it.If she couldn't save her family, couldn't save Roran, at least she could ensure this girl had enough to eat.
Luna leaned close, her breath warm against Thalia's ear."You also need to eat something," she murmured, her usual affected distraction absent."You need your strength.Today of all days."
"I can't," Thalia replied, keeping her voice low.The thought of the amphitheater, of Roran's gaunt face, and the tribunal's cold scrutiny made her stomach clench painfully."Food would just come back up."
Luna frowned, about to argue, when a hush fell over their section of the hall.Thalia felt the change in atmosphere before she saw the cause—a ripple of tension spreading outward like rings in disturbed water.She turned to find Instructor Wolfe approaching their table, her emerald eyes sharp as she cut through the crowd with predatory grace.
Students straightened as Wolfe passed, conversations dying mid-sentence.The refugees, sensing the shift in energy, drew inward, making themselves smaller in the presence of authority.Wolfe's dark robes swept the stone floor as she moved, the fabric seeming to absorb light rather than reflect it.
Thalia and Luna rose automatically as Wolfe reached their table, their bodies responding to years of conditioning.They offered crisp salutes, fists pressed to hearts, then extended outward—the traditional Northern gesture of honesty and respect.
"At ease," Wolfe said, her voice cool and precise.Her gaze swept over them, lingering on Thalia's face."Greenspire, you are to report to the amphitheater before the tribunal is called to order.Half an hour from now."
The instruction settled like ice in Thalia's veins.This order could mean many things, none of them good.She swallowed, fighting to keep her expression neutral."May I ask why, Instructor?"
Wolfe's sharp features remained impassive, though something flickered in her emerald eyes—perhaps surprise at the question, or displeasure at being challenged."You are being called as a witness before the tribunal," she said after a calculated pause.
A witness.Before the tribunal.
Her first instinct was that this was an opportunity.A chance to defend Roran before the entire academy.
But common sense quickly won out over her naive hopes.The tribunal had summoned Ashe from the Reaches for testimony, not her.They didn’t want to give her the chance to defend Roran; they only wanted to seal his fate.Perhaps they had decided their point was already proven, and they were looking for a final condemnation.What better way to crystallize the certainty of Roran’s guilt than to hear something damning from the mouth of his closest friend?
"I understand, Instructor," she managed, though her mouth had gone dry as ashes.
Wolfe regarded her for a moment longer, as if measuring the weight of Thalia's response.Then she gave a curt nod."Don't be late," she said, before turning away, her robes whispering against the stone floor as she departed.
Thalia remained standing, her limbs frozen in place as if winter had seeped into her bones.Around her, conversations gradually resumed, though quieter now, punctuated by furtive glances in her direction.Zanaya stared up at her, spoon suspended halfway to her mouth, confusion and concern warring in her expression.
"Thalia," Luna said softly, tugging at her sleeve."Sit down."
