Page 18 of A Balm of Healing
His legs shook as he willed his feet off the footrests and onto the floor, and a round of gasps filled the room just at the simple endeavor.
With both sticks braced against the ground, he shakily climbed to his feet. Gweneth rushed toward him, arms outstretched as if ready to catch him should he fall. But she didn’t touch him.
He’d rather not have an audience for his first steps since the terrible incident, especially when he feared he would fall onto his backside like a baby learning to use their legs for the first time.
But the thought of Gweneth’s happiness lended him the strength he needed. She’d given him the world by healing his legs. And now he would give it back to her by using them.
After so long of not being able to move his legs, they almost felt as if they were disjointed from his body. However, the exercises Gweneth had practiced with him every day for weeks helped make it possible to control them rather than for them to control him.
He willed his left leg forward, and in a long fourteen years, he took his first step.
Shouts of excitement lifted into the room, and his heart soared with happiness to witness hisfamilygiving him the encouragement he needed to take another step. They cheered wildly.
Laughter escaped him as he continued his slow trek to the opposite side of the room, and by the time he turned back around, his eyes filled to the brim with unshed tears. His legs shook with the effort of remaining standing, and he knew without a doubt he would fall if he didn’t sit immediately.
Thankfully, Gweneth grabbed his chair and wheeled it toward him, and he sat heavily when his legs finally gave out.
He swiped a hand across his eyes. “I’m still unsteady,” he said through everyone’s excited chatter. “Gwen can’t heal my weak muscles, but she fixed my bones.”
Maisy jumped up into Calle’s arms, and he held her on one hip as he addressed Gweneth. “Tell me. How many breaks were there?”
“Around two dozen on each side. The surgery took three days.” She adjusted her spectacles. “With a few breaks in between, of course.”
“Incredible,” he breathed. “I have a little experience in healing, but nothing extensive. How were you able to harness the magic needed to do it over three days? It would have taken any normal healer weeks, perhaps even months, to accomplish what you did. And then again, regarding the extent of the injuries… This was an impossible surgery.”
She smiled and glanced Emeric’s way. “I like to believe nothing is impossible. And between everyone in this room, Your Highness, I have stored sunlight for years to recharge my magic quickly, so my patients don’t have to wait.”
“You can collect it yourself?”
Gweneth nodded.
Calle ran a hand over his jaw. “It’s rare when I meet someone who has such power.” He looked her over, almost as if regarding her in a new light. “One of our healers passed away a couple weeks ago, and we’re looking for someone to take his place.” But then he glanced between her and Emeric with uncertainty in the pinch of his mouth. “Do you have any interest in the position? I don’t want to come between you and Emeric.”
Heat flushed across Emeric’s face, and he covered his eyes with his hand to try to hide it. Was it so obvious he had feelings for the Sun Fae? Was it so obvious that perhaps she had some for him, too?
He waited with bated breath for her answer. Because he wanted her to live her dream. But he feared losing her altogether.
When Gweneth didn’t answer immediately, he glanced up to find her floundering, her mouth opening and closing as if unable to form an answer. And more than once, she looked his way.
He tried to smile through the pain. “All Gwen ever talks about is how much she wishes to become a High Healer at the palace. Of course, she’ll take the position. She wants it more than anything.”
A large smile spread across Calle’s face as if Gweneth had answered herself. “Wonderful. I hope you might arrive within three weeks if it’s not too much trouble. Let me know within two days if you change my mind, as that’s when we’re headed back to Heulwen.”
The room erupted into excited laughter and chatter once more. He wheeled himself forward in an attempt to speak to Gweneth, but Nyana intercepted him. She grabbed the handles of his wheelchair from behind and steered him down the hallway and into another room, closing the door behind them.
Two beds lay on either side of the room, littered with lacy pillowcases and a dozen dolls each. A white canopy rested over one of the beds while a large and intricate model of a ship lay on the bedside table of the other.
He guessed the canopy bed belonged to Eva and the other belonged to Maisy.
“I’m so happy for you, Papa.” Nyana embraced him tightly and regarded his legs with a sheen in her eyes. “What a miracle.”
“Indeed, it is.”
But then her expression shifted into curiosity as if trying to work out a puzzle in her mind. “Will you be accompanying Gweneth to Heulwen?”
He sighed as he stared into his lap and whispered, “I don’t know.”
“Does she know how you feel about her?”
