Page 163 of She Who Was Severed

I cross to the window, palms resting on the black stone sill. The city glows faintly below, firelight winding through the lower towers. My breath fogs the air for just a second before it’s swallowed by heat again.

My mother continues, voice quieter now. “There was a summer—years ago. You must’ve been ten. She was here for a week. There was a storm, and afterward, one of the training cliff nests collapsed.”

I frown. “The hawk nests?”

She nods. “One of the chicks fell. The boys laughed. Left it.”

I don’t remember this.

“She found it,” she says. “Sopping wet, breathing, just barely. She brought it to me in both hands, trembling but determined. She asked what we could do.”

I glance over my shoulder. “What did you tell her?”

“We made a nest together. Fed it. Kept it warm. She named it, but only whispered the name to the bird. Said it was private.”

“And it flew?”

“Eventually.” She meets my eyes. “You were training that week. Practicing blade forms with your tutor. You didn’t see her much.”

I nod. “I don’t remember the bird.”

She smiles, the kind that hurts a little. “That doesn’t surprise me. You wanted to be a warrior, to protect people. Freya… she would protect people in a different way. She was always meant to be more.”

I say nothing. There’s nothing to say.

“Even then, she knew what mattered wasn’t control—it was care. That bird flew because she stayed.”

The silence wraps around us. Comfortable. Heavy.

Then she sets her tea down and stands.

“You’ve made your choice,” she says again. “And I won’t stop you.”

She steps forward, straightens my cloak where it’s slipped off one shoulder. She kisses my cheek once. She hasn’t done that for years.

“But if you’re leaving, let it be because you believe in what she’s building—not just because you want to burn something down.”

I meet her eyes.

“I do believe,” I say.

She nods once, firm.

“Then go. I’ll speak with your father.”

I leave the Ember Hall before she finishes her tea.

The corridors are empty. The air clearer.

And for the first time since I left Virelle in ash, the weight in my chest doesn’t feel like guilt.

It feels like fire that finally belongs to me.

Chapter 23

Freya

The room was never meant for this.