rried the stone mortar over, the green sludge inside looking as appealing as swamp mud. He

, replaced by a soothing coolness that seeped deep into the torn fl

her knee. "You think a little bit of m

. His hands were large and rough, calloused from years of hard labor, but his touch was precise. He manipula

st her skin, it felt like a violation. She was a Paladin-she had healed others with a tou

poured a thick, grayish porridge into a bowl. The smell of boiled grains and wild roots filled the tiny r

ped her head back toward him, her eyes blazing. "T

de the bed. He scooped up a spoonful of th

ked her head to the side, pressin

here, inches from her face. The silence in the roo

hollow ache in her stomach was turning into a sharp, gnawing pain that made her head spin. She could feel his g

a Paladin anymore. She was just a starving girl with broken legs. She had to live. If she died here, in this dirt-floored sh

rmth radiating from the food was a physical force against her cold skin. Her

. She kne

ing to summon a threat, b

crushed her pride into dust. Slowly, agonizingl

and water, but the heat spreading down her throat and into her stomach felt

r leaked from the corner of her eye, sliding down her temple and into her hair. It wasn't a tear of gratitude. It was a tear of pure, und

nd, then resumed feeding her, his movements becoming slow