Aria POV

I stood at the balcony, my hands braced against the cold stone railing, staring down at the gardens spread beneath like a dark ocean. The torches burned lower than usual, their flames shivering against the wind, and even the roses looked as though they’d folded into themselves, hiding from the night.

The bandage wrapped tight around my head tugged against my skin when the breeze shifted. My crutches leaned against the wall beside me,silent sentinels of my weakness. I hated the sight of them. Hated the way they whispered of fragility, of helplessness, of the fall that had left me shattered in more ways than one.

My chest...