Page 41 of The Prison Healer

With another quick glance at Captain Veris, Mirryn turned back to Kiva and opened her palm. A flame appeared above her hand. No, notaboveher hand—onher hand. It surrounded her flesh, the fire dancing over her skin as she moved her wrist this way and that, the embers beginning to wander along her forearm before she snapped her fingers and made it all disappear.

Her skin was unblemished, her cloak sleeve, while slightly charcoaled, was otherwise undamaged.

“Impressive,” Kiva choked out when she saw the princess was waiting for a reaction.

Mirryn smirked and nodded toward the amulet still in Kiva’s hand. “The ruby in the crest can absorb fire magic, should someone—such as myself—push power into it.” Her smirk widened, her implication clear. “I don’t know what the Trial by Fire is, but as long as you’re wearing that”—she indicated the amulet again—“then the magic within should keep you protected.”

Kiva gaped at the princess, then at the amulet, struck speechless.

“Don’t let anyone see it, or they’ll think you stole it,” Mirryn warned. She paused, then added, “My charity only extends so far. You’ll have to figure something else out for the last two Trials.”

Kiva nodded mutely, still unable to form a response. She did, however, close her fingers around the amulet and tuck it into the folds of her blanket, hidden from sight. The moment it was covered, Mirryn raised her hand, repeating the action that had created the air pocket. Kiva’s ears popped again, this time with relief as the pressure lifted, and she knew they were no longer in their privacy bubble.

“It was ... an experience ... to meet you, healer,” the princess said, standing to her feet and smoothing invisible wrinkles from her cloak. “I’ll look forward to hearing news of how you fare in the rest of your Trials, whatever your fate may be.”

Mirryn didn’t offer any words of encouragement or well wishes for Kiva’s survival. In fact, as she began to walk away, she seemed quite content to purge Zalindov and its inhabitants from her mind, the prison healer included. And yet Kiva couldn’t keep from calling out to her, finally able to speak.

“Wait!”

The princess halted, half turning back to her.

“Why are you helping me?” Kiva asked, the amulet all but burning beneath her blanket. “You said earlier that you don’t care what happens to me. I don’t—I don’tunderstand.” She swallowed, then made herself add, “If I live, so does Tilda. Why would you risk that?”

Later, when the poppymilk left her system, Kiva might wonder at her own daring. But now she needed answers.

Whether Mirryn knew it or not, the Vallentis family was the reason Kiva was in this mess at all.Suspected treason against the crown—that was why Faran Meridan had been arrested. No proof, no nefarious plotting or actions; he’d merely been seen in a public marketplace near the wrong person, at the wrong time. His supposed crime had landed him at Zalindov, and Kiva with him. They were both victims of circumstance ... with Kerrin nothing more than collateral damage.

Kiva had spent ten years coming to terms with that night, learning to accept that stewing on what had happened to her family would not keep her alive. The injustice of it all still tasted bitter in her mouth, but she was able to push past it to focus on what was more important: surviving. Because of that, she was rational enough to know that if she wasn’t rescued before the next Trial, then the princess had just given her an invaluable treasure—safe passage through to the third Ordeal.

But ... Kiva didn’t knowwhy.

Turning to face her more fully, Mirryn eyed Kiva, weighing her response. Finally, the princess answered, “Part of it is because my brother has a soft heart—too soft, if you ask me. Especially for a crown prince.” Mirryn rolled her eyes behind her mask. “But lustful idiot or not, I owed him a favor.”

Lustful idiot, indeed. Kiva had no idea what Prince Deverick was thinking. While grateful, she’d never asked for his help, and given that he was a Vallentis, she had no intention of repaying him. Ever.

“As for the other part ...” the princess went on. “You have the spirit of a survivor, and I can’t help respecting that. In any other circumstance, I think you and I might have grown close. Become friends, even.”

Kiva sucked in a startled breath. It was that or start laughing. Protective amulet or not, there was no way she wouldever—

“But this isn’t any other circumstance,” Mirryn continued, cutting off Kiva’s inner denial. “And the truth is, even with my help, I’m assuming you’ll still fail. That’s why I’m giving you a chance, albeit a hopeless one.” She shrugged, an unapologetic rise and fall of her shoulders. “The likelihood of you and Tilda surviving the next six weeks on your own, of Tilda even living long enough, given her sickness ... Well, you don’t need me to tell you the odds.”

It was true—Kiva already knew. She was just banking on something the princess didn’t know. On someone. Or multiple someones.

Her family.

And the rebels.

Stay alive.

Don’t let her die.

We are coming.

“I’ve always rooted for the underdog,” Mirryn said, almost musingly. “And you, Kiva Meridan, are the biggest underdog I’ve ever seen.”

“I have to agree with you on that,” interrupted a new voice.

Kiva could do nothing but stare as the crown prince himself strode into the infirmary, his shoulders back, head held high, winter cloak rippling dramatically behind him as he approached on calm, unhurried feet.

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