Page 66 of Salt Between the Wolves

"Heard they're sending her away."

The reply came immediately.

"About time."

Neither voice sounded cruel, and that somehow made the exchange worse. There was no anger in their tone, no satisfaction, only a weary resignation, as though they were discussing the weather, supplies, or some practical matter that needed resolving.

The first man lowered his voice.

"You think it's true?"

A brief pause followed before the other answered.

"Wouldn't surprise me."

Silence settled between them for a moment, broken only by the faint scrape of shifting footsteps somewhere beyond the stone wall.

Eira continued walking at the same steady pace.

Behind her, the conversation resumed.

"Maybe things will settle down after that."

The words reached her clearly despite the growing distance.

Neither man sounded certain. They sounded hopeful, as though hoping hard enough might somehow make it true.

Eira rounded the corner before either of them could notice her. The voices faded behind stone and distance, and she never looked back.

The fortress stretched before her exactly as it always had. Workers moved between buildings, smoke drifted from chimneys, and the scent of pine rode the wind descending from the mountains.

Nothing had changed.

And yet something inside her quietly settled into place.

She knew there were people who believed her. Some had never doubted her, while others had chosen to trust her despite everything that had happened.

That wasn't the point.

The point was that the story no longer belonged to the people who knew the truth.

It belonged to fear.

Fear had a way of creating its own momentum, its own voice, its own version of events. It no longer needed accusations or evidence. Nobody had to point fingers anymore. The rumor was already alive, moving through the fortress from one conversation to the next and changing shape each time it was repeated.

Eira tightened her grip on the satchel.

What surprised her most was that she wasn't angry.

She was tired.

Tired of being discussed, tired of being explained, and tired of existing as a question everyone else seemed determined to answer for her.

As she crossed the courtyard, another realization followed close behind.

The words she had overheard had not hurt nearly as much as they should have.

A month ago, she might have gone looking for Soren. She might have demanded answers, honesty, or some assurance that the rumors were false.