Page 103 of Fated to the Frost King

I turned to one of the guards. “Escort them to the infirmary.”

To another, I said, “Go prepare the healer, and gather as many servants as possible to help him with whatever he needs.”

Whether they were allowed or not was no longer my concern. If Draven had a problem with it, he could damned well take it up with me when he returned.

The guards nodded, one sprinting toward the castle to sound the warning while the other motioned for the villagers to follow him.

They all did save for the child, who stared up at me with wide, unblinking eyes like she was waiting for something.

I eyed her uncertainly. I didn’t share my sister’s disdain for tiny fae, but neither had I interacted with them much over the past decade.

“You could start by asking her name,” Soren muttered behind me.

Shards, I had nearly forgotten they were here. Though he had infused his words with a remnant of his usual levity, the advice was sound, all the same.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

She didn’t answer but instead looked down at the broken doll in her arms like it might have the answer.

“Serelith,” Nevara offered.

The girl’s eyes snapped up, focusing on the Visionary.

“Serelith,” I echoed gently. “I need you to come with me to see the healer, to make sure you aren’t hurt. Can you do that for me?”

She blinked mutely, then nodded, holding out her hand. I took it, ignoring the way it was sticky with blood.

I glanced up at the soldiers on the wall, then to the few still lingering in the courtyard.

One by one, I gave orders—unsure where they were coming from or how I even knew what needed doing. Just hoping it was enough.

One guard ran to fetch the Beastmender for the wolves. Another hurried off to summon the Lord General to theinfirmary. Since Draven was traveling by ice, Eryx had stayed behind, which was a small mercy.

I gave the rest of the guards an unnecessary order to stay alert and keep an eye out for any more survivors. Then I turned and marched toward the infirmary with the blood-covered child in tow. This was all I knew to do.

It would have to be enough.

Midnight came and went before I reached my rooms.

By the time I returned, I was too tired to look at the books. I only paused long enough to set Batty near the tray of food Mirelda had left, then went straight to the basin of water to scrub the blood off my hands.

She hadn’t left pajamas out, so I strode to the closet, looking for something comfortable and easy. It made a half-hearted attempt to give me something frilly, but with the dozens of bloody villagers playing through my mind, I was in no mood.

“Don’t even think about it,” I growled.

A flannel nightgown fluttered meekly to my feet. I nodded my acceptance, grabbing the garment before trudging back to my bed.

A few more villagers had trickled in, each more bloodied and broken than the last. But no more children. That knowledge tore at something inside me, scraped against my bones, and made me feel well and truly hollow.

The worst part was, the monsters weren’t even some of the strongest. It was a skulk of Brakhounds. But not only had they also defied the laws of mana and attacked during the day, they had waited until the guards shifted their patrol during a village festival to attack…

Were they getting smarter now, on top of everything?

Though I despised myself for it, I wished Draven were here, even though pulling answers from him was like pulling teeth from an angry, pregnant ice-dragon. Still, it would have been something. Some…comfort, as ridiculous as that sounded.

But there was no sign of him.

Throughout the night, my ring burned cold against my finger, each time lasting a little longer than the one before. But whatever it was trying to tell me was lost to all the things I didn’t know.

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