Page 60 of Pieces of Halves

I glare at him, irritation flaring up quickly.

“Yes, that brilliant idea has not crossed my mind,” I snap, my tone harsher than I want it to be.

I clench my jaw, displeased at how easily agitated I got.

“Hhmm.” Yanuk hums, unbothered by my attitude. “I know a witch. She could help.”

I chuckle humorously. My history with witches is an unpleasant one.

“She is a good one,” Yanuk says and looks at Izzy.

“We should at least try.” She pleads with her eyes.

Izzy has already forced a few physicians to inspect me, but none of them know what is wrong. These headaches are a pain in the ass, but they are not killing me yet. Izzy, on the other hand, is spreading herself thin by fighting a war and trying to help me.

Her massages used to help. Now, they only make a slight difference. Things are getting progressively worse. I am still alive, though. The main focus is on getting rid of my mother’s followers. Tiring of having to talk about my problem that won’t go away, I sigh.

“Fine,” I grunt. “As long as it doesn’t take too long. We still need to figure out how to get the fire fay to take our side. They don’t trust Sofia’s followers, but they don’t like us as well.” I try to keep my voice composed, even though talking hurts my brain.

“I agree, but there is no sign of the root anywhere,” Jorgan informs us, his expression hard, and starts to pace the room.

We will manage without their support, but it would be nice to know that if push comes to shove, the fire fay will take our side. My eyes land on Izzy’s. There is worry written on her face. She’s not a warrior, but she has help from capable people. There is not much else she can do.

“We will focus on preparing the army then,” she says and gets up, finalizing this meeting.

Jorgan and Yanuk leave first, and we follow as Izzy slides her fingers through mine, pulling me after herself. No doubt ina hurry to get to our room to massage my head, even though she knows it barely helps anymore. Maybe it offers her some sense of control in this chaos.

“Slow down, Izzy.” I tug her.

“It’s been a few days since we sent out the letters. We should be getting responses soon.” She swallows. “Maybe this witch will point us in the right direction.” She looks up at me.

“Izzy, it’s unpleasant and frustrating to know that eventually, this power could kill me, but I am still okay.” Bringing her into my arms, I place my chin on the top of her head.

“I understand,” she mumbles, her voice breaking, “but please take care of yourself.”

If I were in her shoes, I would worry just the same, but I hate how much pain this is causing her.

Yanuk was quick in sending the message for the witch he recommended. I squint my eyes as I watch him continuously glance at the wooden doors of the foyer. He seems nervous and anxious as we wait for the woman to arrive.

I feel a headache coming again with the soft throbs of pain at the front of my skull, and I have to refrain from growling in frustration. It doesn’t hurt yet, but I know that it is coming. Izzy notices my change of mood and looks up at me, hope in her eyes as she gives my hand a gentle squeeze.

The doors open, letting in a small woman with black curly hair. Her hands are clasped in front of her pink skirt as she timidly walks into the room. Yanuk quickly walks to her, almostrunning, and stops right in front of her, his behavior unsure and awkward. I would’ve laughed if I didn’t have bigger problems.

“Hi,” Yanuk whispers as he looks down at her so tenderly, I have to take a moment to understand what is happening. “How are you? How are you adjusting?” he asks, his eyes focused on her dark ones.

“I’m okay. No one has been bothering me after you stepped in,” she responds, her voice quiet as her cheeks turn pink.

“Good.” Yanuk swallows hard.He likes the girl, and a lot. It makes me want to smile at how delicately he talks to her. At the same time, it is amusing. “This is the man I told you about in the message.” He places his hand on her elbow and turns his head to us.

“Alright,” she says shyly and looks at me, her curls bouncing around her head.

“This is Anastasia.” Yanuk introduces her with pride in his voice, his blue eyes always on her.

“Just Anna,” she whispers, looking at me and Izzy from under her lashes.

“Good morning,” Izzy says to the girl, her voice chipper.

“Your Majesty.” Anna bows and plays with her fingers.

---