Page 72 of The Lost Guard's Healer

“Hey, I threw it at the wall, not at you.”

As we make our way through the tent to the bright daylight streaming in through the gaps of the entrance flaps, Rourk tells me how Clio and Arthur have stayed in the Shanti village as honored guests while the rest of the Oathlands soldiers returned home.

I stop him before we exit the tent and turn to face him, pressing myself against him. He wraps his arms around me. We take a moment to just stare into each other’s eyes, observing our faces and having an unspoken conversation. We smile at each other, and then kiss.

I want to stay in his arms and be with him forever. There’s nothing I’ve ever wanted more. I wince when a wave of pain hits me. Rourk looks at me with concern. “You need to take it easy, my love.” He kisses me on the forehead lovingly. “We need to get you back to bed.”

I pull away, but grab his hand. “Just a few minutes. I want to see a few people first.”

The warmth of familiarity and comfort overwhelms me when we step out into the village. It almost looks like the world hasn’t almost come to an end. But there is a heavy tension in the air that speaks of grieving and loss, mixing with the joy of victory.

I smile and give a small wave at the familiar faces who stop to look at me. It’s good to be back.

Rourk’s brother Arthur is a very large, muscular man with a short salt-and-pepper beard and intense eyes. He has the look of a king about him in his regal uniform and long cape. I see that haunting good looks run in the family.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Arthur tells me, gently shaking my hand. “And a relief to see you up and about.”

His searching eyes remind me of Rourk, as do his heavy brows. “It is a pleasure to meet the King of the Oathlands,” I say. “Thank you for saving us.”

Arthur gives a wry grin. “Well, I am not actually a King. It is complicated. But close enough.”

“Well, whoever you are,” I smile back, “It is good to meet you.”

Arthur chuckles. “I like her,” he says to Rourk. He has that playful, mischievous gleam in his dark and brooding eyes, like Rourk.

Someone calls my name. Leila and the boys are rushing up to me. My heart swells at the sight of them. They swoop me up in their arms and we bounce with joy, holding each other. I fight through the electrifying pain shooting through me so I can keep holding them and enjoy the moment.

“Go easy,” Leila scolds the boys for squeezing me too tight. She presses a hand on my hand and thanks Arthur and Rourk for bringing me back.

A look of pained torture constricts Leila’s features, though she attempts a small smile. I know the look. Mourning for our father. I wonder what exactly she’s been told. Can I ever tell her the truth about our father?

I crouch and ruffle Milo’s hair, pulling Jonah closer. “Oh, it’s so good to see you all.”

“We were so worried about you,” Johan whispers in my ear, before kissing my cheek.

I notice Rourk stepping closer to his brother and overhear their discussion.

“I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me,” Rourk says. “But I was sure it was Tabetha. She is still missing, right?”

“You saw correctly,” Arthur says. “Tabetha was indeed in The Kingdom. Clio told me all about it. We were thinking of a way to go and get her without starting another war. But we found her before we left the city this morning, and she has been returned home. She was with a good family. She was cared for and treated well.”

Rourk shakes his head in bewilderment. “That’s a relief. How did she end up in The Kingdom?”

Arthur places a hand on Rourk’s good shoulder. “A story for another time.”

I notice the withdrawn, heavy expressions of the villagers around me. A tense sadness is in the air. We mourn our dead while we celebrate the survival of our world. I’m still acclimatizing to everything and want to ask who we’ve lost, but I don’t think my fragile mind can take that information right now. I still have to accept that my father is no longer with us.

Magdalena and Colm walk over to us, accompanied by a red-haired woman I have not seen before. This newcomer has a petite frame, but she carries herself with a commanding, regal presence, her oval face pale and smooth. Her silver and white corseted gown speaks of royal palaces and grand balls, making her stand out among the rest of us.

The graceful woman steps up to Arthur with a smile. “We have been invited to a celebration festival tonight in the village.”

“We will mourn our dead and bless the land, as is our custom,” Magdalena says.

“A celebration is in order,” Arthur agrees. “The resilience and spirit of the Shanti People is admirable.”

Something flashes in my mind. A glimpse of Rourk’s thoughts. I hadn’t realized I had become so connected to him, or that my ability has developed to this level of ease. What I sense, however, stuns me.

Rourk knows that Magdalena and Colm are the true elders who lead us. Along with Yovin, Abby, and… my father. The elders we know are merely the faces of the true people who have been governing and advising us. I feel like the ground has shifted and I need to collect myself.

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