Page 61 of Salt Between the Wolves

For a few moments Eira stood beneath the gallery overlooking the main yard and watched the movement below.

A group of hunters passed carrying freshly repaired spears, and one of them noticed her. Their conversation continued for another sentence or two before gradually fading away, not abruptly and not enough to be obvious, yet Eira felt the shift all the same.

The hunter gave her a brief nod as they passed, a gesture that was polite, respectful, and carefully neutral.

The others followed his example.

By the time they disappeared around the corner, none of them had said anything wrong, and that was precisely the problem.

No one said anything wrong anymore.

Weeks earlier, someone would have made a joke, and Riven certainly would have been the first to do it. Someone would have asked where she had been hiding, while another would have complained about training, the weather, or the quality of breakfast.

Now conversations seemed to lose momentum whenever she approached, as though everyone was afraid of stepping onto uncertain ground.

Eira resumed walking.

Near the smithy, two women were speaking beside a stack of firewood. One of them greeted her immediately, her smile appearing so quickly that it felt rehearsed.

"Good morning, Eira."

"Good morning."

The woman continued smiling for a moment too long before turning back toward her companion.

Their conversation resumed, though it sounded different somehow—more cautious, as though Eira's presence lingered even after she had moved away.

She crossed the lower courtyard and headed toward the stables.

The route took her past the training grounds, and instinct made her glance toward them.

The familiar circle of packed earth lay crowded with warriors moving through drills beneath the watchful eyes of their instructors. Wooden weapons struck one another in steady rhythms while corrections and commands carried across the yard.

For a moment, the sight felt so familiar that she almost forgot herself.

Then she saw him.

Soren stood near the edge of the training circle speaking with Kael.

The distance between them was too great to hear the conversation, yet the bond reacted instantly, and the sensation arrived without warning. It brought neither warmth nor comfort, only a sharp ache beneath her ribs—the same ache that had followed her for weeks.

She looked away first, and the decision came easily now.

There had been a time when she would have lingered, watched, and hoped.

Now she simply continued walking.

Behind her, the sounds of training gradually faded into the background, while ahead the stables waited in the pale afternoon light, carrying the familiar scent of hay, leather, and horses.

Eira found herself breathing more easily as she approached them.

Lately, she preferred the company of animals because they never looked at her differently, never lowered their voices, and never hesitated before deciding whether she belonged.

The stables were quieter than the rest of the fortress, and perhaps that was why Eira found herself returning there more often.

The moment she stepped inside, the familiar scents of hay, leather, horseflesh, and old timber replaced the colder air outside. Several horses lifted their heads as she passed, ears turning toward her before settling again when they recognized who it was.

For a while, she simply walked the length of the stable. A chestnut mare pushed her nose toward Eira's shoulder in search of attention, while further down an older gelding shifted lazily in his stall and accepted a scratch behind the ears with obvious satisfaction.