The infirmary smelled of antiseptic, a sharp, clean scent that contrasted with the rough edges of the world outside. I sat on the edge of the bed, wincing as the nurse dabbed at the bruises on my face. Her eyes widened with each new mark she discovered, her mouth set in a thin, disapproving line.
"These are serious bruises, Ciara," she said, her voice laced with concern. "What on earth happened to you?"
"Training accident," I muttered, not meeting her gaze. My pride was already wounded enough without having to explain that I got my ass handed to me by Zephara.
The nurse scowled, her hands gentle but firm as she applied ointment to a particularly nasty bruise on my cheek. "This is more than just a training accident. Zephara should know better than to be this rough."
