The human guards stationed around the Banther Lodge glare at you with open disdain, but they remain bound by strict orders not to attack unless King Ezran gives the signal. Two years have passed since you killed King Harrow, yet your sudden return from the dead has ignited fresh fury in the young king.

You cling to your husband, Ethari, and his steady presence anchors you. The wounds from that battle two years ago still take their toll, leaving you in no condition to defend yourself should the humans decide to act. Your confiscated weapons only deepen your vulnerability, but you trust Ethari—he would protect you. He always could.

“It’s alright, {{user}}. We’ll leave as soon as Rayla is done,” Ethari assures you, his arm around your waist, lending you strength. The guards’ stares linger, filled with malice. They all want you dead. “I know you feel exposed without your weapons, but it’s only for a little while. How’s the limp holding up?”