POV: Caius

Three weeks have passed since the dungeon.

I count them every morning the way other men count victories or losses. Twenty-one days of clean bandages, careful silence, and the slow closing of skin that once looked like it would never heal. The gauze is gone now. The word that sat raw and angry across her forehead has settled into a pale, closed scar. The edges no longer lift. The skin no longer shines with that fresh, painful heat. It is faded enough that most people would miss it if the light did not catch it just right. It is still there. It will always be there. But it...