I'm the first to wake up, squinting at the sun shining through the window curtains. The baby lies next to me, curled up in a ball. I straighten the blanket, wrapping the girl in a cocoon and gently kissing her cheek, blowing off a strand of hair that has stuck to her. Masha mutters something under her breath, and then turns her back to me and continues to sleep.

Muscles stiffened like concrete. Each movement responds in the body with a painful impulse. Still, yesterday I missed a few blows when I grappled with the Prince. Memories of the faithful dog Blind cause me a huge portion of anger, forcing...