Page 87 of Once the Skies Fade

“Very good,” Isa said, lifting her chin. “I’ll get the information to your valet as soon as I have it settled.”

A heavy thumping of boots woke me from my dreamless—yet still restless—sleep, and I clutched my head as I rolled over to find my valet stomping across the room to open the drapes and let in streams of deep gold afternoon sunlight. When the final curtain slid open, throwing bright light across my face, I winced with a low groan and tried to roll over, but that only stoked pain elsewhere in my body.

Was this how humans felt when they got hurt?

No wonder humans were such a miserable lot.

“Mr. Orelian,” Giles said, tapping his heels loudly together. I peeked back over my shoulder but kept my eyes squinted against the brightness as I hummed in recognition. He let out a weary breath, as if talking to me was the last thing he wanted to be doing. “General Marlowe expects you to present yourself in one hour to Her Majesty in the solar on the uppermost floor.”

I groaned again at the thought of climbing more stairs.

“And she said this wasn’t a trial,” I muttered to myself.

Giles responded all the same. “It is not a trial, and I am to offer my assistance should you require it.”

“No need for that,” I said, sitting up and dropping my feet to the floor. Though my back was to the valet, his relief was evident in his next words.

“Very good, sir. I have taken the liberty of drawing a bath for you.”

“Thank you.” I pushed myself to stand. “And don’t worry, I don’t need any assistance with that either.”

Giles nodded and promptly fled the room, as if my injuries were contagious.

I bathed as quickly as I could—and as well as I could—with my body still protesting every movement. Selecting a plain black button-down shirt and dark gray trousers, I dressed and afforded one brief glance in the mirror. At least the swelling had subsided enough that I looked somewhat like myself again. Myfirst step toward the door sent a jolt of pain shooting down my leg, and I grimaced and hissed through each subsequent step I took back to my bedroom, where the healers’ pouch and a glass of water sat on the bedside table. Thankfully, the herbs—as nasty as they were—took effect almost immediately, and by the time I reached the door, my pain was barely noticeable at all.

Oryn’s room was at least close by, making my visit an easy detour before I needed to meet Calla. I knocked on the door and a stout little female whose round smiling face greeted me in stark contrast to my valet’s.

“Yes, sir? How can I help you?” the female asked, her pleasant voice washing over me like a warm blanket on a crisp day.

I intended to ask after Oryn, but a different question came out when I opened my mouth. “Why couldn’t I have gotten you as my valet?”

Her laugh, hearty yet still somehow quiet, put me at ease, though I couldn’t understand why.

“Ah, sir, I’m the one they call on when someone is in need of comfort.”

“Ahh,” I said, realization dawning on me. “So this warm fuzzy feeling is thanks to you.”

She smiled kindly. “You’re welcome. Name’s Hilde.”

“Not sure I like it, to be honest,” I said. Even with the comfort she manipulated within me, it was unnerving to know someone else was mucking with my emotions.

She didn’t seem at all offended by my candor, nodding with that same smile on her lips. “It’s not for everyone, but I am at least able to shield others from pain when there are no other alternatives.” She waved a hand loosely in the air. “Never mind all of that. Are you here to see Oryn?”

“If I may. I can’t stay long, unfortunately.”

Without a word, she beckoned me inside and across the living space to where Oryn was tucked soundly into bed. His chest rose and fell evenly, and apart from the bandage wrapped around his head, he showed no sign of being injured. In fact, he looked so at peace, I half-expected him to open his eyes at any moment.

“He doesn’t have long, I’m afraid,” Hilde whispered beside me.

“Is there no way he can be sent back to his family?” I asked.

She shook her head and shrugged. “Not my decision. That’s up to Her Majesty and her general.”

I peered down at her and smirked. “Guess I’ll just have to speak to the queen then.”

Her smile vanished instantly, and something akin to fear filled her eyes. “It’s not worth the risk,” she whispered, her gaze shifting around the room as if Calla herself might be lurking nearby, listening.

“There’s no risk. Her Majesty and I have…a bit of a rapport.”

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