It's quiet for a long moment, long enough for Harrow to think Gideon promptly lost her challenge after all. Then there's another hacking cough, and a soft swearing, but afterwards the rattle is much diminished her breathing.

It doesn't seem real. Not the silvery ceiling above her. Not the cold slab she's laid out on. Certainly not Harrow beside her.

"You're warm," she says, stupidly.