Page 18 of The Gilded Cage

Kiva’s heart clutched. She hated that Tipp had been so afraid for her, and was reluctantly grateful for the queen’s intervention. Moradine was a strong sedative, prompting a swift and dreamless sleep. The young boy would likely be out until morning.

Not wanting to disturb him, Kiva followed the queen toward a second lounge, where a tray of food was waiting. Her stomach rumbled as Ariana prepared a muffin for her, loading it with cream before handing it over.

Seeing the Queen of Evalon wait on her like a servant, Kiva’s mind blanked of thought, leaving her with nothing to do but raise the muffin to her mouth as Ariana began questioning Caldon about how he’d found her. They were interrupted partway through by the arrival of a young woman, perhaps a year or two older than Kiva, dressed in the familiar white robe of a Silverthorn healer.

“Your Majesty,” she said, offering a respectful curtsey. Her pale skin had a rosy glow to it, and while her features were too sharp to be considered classically beautiful, her heart-shaped face, russet-colored eyes, and ashy blond hair pulled back into a messy bun were captivating enough to make Caldon watch her with keen interest.

“Thank you for coming so quickly,” Ariana said, standing and beckoning the healer closer. “I know it’s late.”

“A healer never sleeps,” the young woman said amicably, her smile lighting up the room. She glanced from Caldon to Kiva, before she made a clucking sound with her tongue. “Looks like we had too much fun at the festival.”

“Not enough fun, if you ask me,” Caldon said, leaning back and sending her a lazy grin full of promise. “But there’s plenty of night left.”

Kiva fought to control her gag reflex. She pulled a face at Caldon when the healer opened her medical bag, causing his eyes to light with amusement.

“I’m Rhessinda Lorin,” the young woman said. Her gaze locked with Kiva’s as she added, “Friends call me Rhess.”

“Lovely to meet you, Rhess,” Caldon said, all but purring her name. Kiva wasn’t sure whether to laugh or groan, her respect for the healer growing when she seemed oblivious to the prince’s attention and instead focused on pulling out her supplies.

“Who wants to go first?” Rhessinda asked.

“She does,” Caldon said, and Kiva didn’t have the energy to argue as the healer took the seat vacated by Ariana, who hovered but kept her distance so as to not smother them.

Rhessinda tipped Kiva’s face toward the light and prodded at the bump. “Can you tell me your name?”

“Kiva.”

“Age?”

“Seventeen.”

“What day is it?”

“Friday.”

“Favorite color?”

Rhessinda’s questions continued until she was satisfied, after which she withdrew a handheld luminium torch and shone it straight into Kiva’s eyes, causing her to hiss and jerk away.

“Ouch,” Rhess said. “That looked painful.”

Kiva shot her a look, and then transferred it to Caldon when he coughed, failing to hide his humor.

“You have a nasty concussion, but I don’t think we need to worry about anything more serious,” Rhessinda declared, dabbing on some aloeweed gel to help with the inflammation, her callused fingers scratching slightly against Kiva’s sensitive skin. “I’ll leave you something for the pain, so you should be feeling a lot better by morning. If your discomfort grows or you start to have problems with vision, balance, nausea, and the like, send word to Silverthorn.”

Kiva nodded her understanding, knowing enough about head injuries to not need — or want — further mollycoddling.

“Your turn,” Rhess said, relocating to sit beside Caldon. “Clothes off, if you please.”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Caldon drawled, flexing his muscles as he removed both his green jacket and white shirt, leaving him wearing only dark pants and a pair of boots.

Once again, his attempted seduction flew straight over Rhessinda’s head — as did his impressive body being on display — with her focus being solely on her task. Kiva leaned forward to look at his injury, distracted for a moment by the other scars lacing his torso, one in particular looking as if someone had tried very hard to gut him. But then she shifted her gaze to the fresh stab wound near his shoulder, the flesh around it puffy and red, the blood already clotted. Some disinfecting and a few stitches, and he would be fine.

Rhess reached the same conclusion, unstoppering a vial as she said, “This isn’t too bad.”

Kiva breathed easier at the confirmation, but then her attention was diverted by quick footsteps and low voices heralding the arrival of a small group of guards bursting through the doors to the River Room. In their lead was Jaren, the look of relief on his face when he caught sight of Kiva making her stomach flip in an undeniably pleasant way.

With long strides eating up the space between them, Jaren reached her just as she stood to greet him and drew her straight into his arms.

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