Elara moved through the hidden passageway like she owned Drakenfell's blueprints, yanked a portrait aside, and shoved them both into a storage room before Serena could get a word in.
As soon as the door swung shut, Serena pulled her into a hug.
"Elara, I am so glad you are okay."
"Thanks to you. Thank you for not giving up on me," Elara whispered. "And for not letting the dragons kill me either."
"None of that was your fault."
Elara glanced down, only just noticing the bow and quiver in Serena's hands. She smiled and looked back up at her, curiosity clear, but before she could ask—
Serena clapped her hands and bounced in place.
"I just remembered. Hale marked you."
She squealed with the kind of pure, infectious joy reserved for watching someone finally get the life and happiness they deserved and getting to witness it firsthand.
Elara groaned, her face turning red. "I am mortified."
"You know they used to do public markings in ancient times," Serena said helpfully.
