Page 31 of Healer to the Ash King
“Yes, I do.”
“That’s something you’ll need to disclose to the Ash King, since children are an important part of the monarchy. Of course adoption is possible, and there’s precedent for it among the royals, so if you make a connection with him, you could still win this.”
“That’s what I’m hoping for. Thank you for your acceptance, Healer.” Vanas hops off the table and blows me a kiss before walking out.
It’s dark outside now. Lamps with clear glass shades light the examination room, and I snuff out each of them before walking over to the open window. The garden beyond is darkly lovely, whispering with night wind, sprinkled with gleaming night insects. Soft music spirals along the paths. Between tall leafy bushes I glimpse a pavilion aglow with light, and I catch the lilting murmur of feminine voices and the chink of cups. Tonight the Favored are having their first private party with the Ash King—just him and them and a few guards.
I wonder how he will act toward them. Will he be harsh and cold, quick to resent any challenge to his authority, or will they see another side of him?
Suddenly I’m desperate to know.
I close the window, latch it, and leave the room. A few steps along the hall are the double doors leading into the garden, and I slip through them, leaving my shoes just inside the entrance.
I’ve been standing all day, and the cool pavers of the path feel delicious to my tired feet. Impulsively I press one foot into the soil of a nearby flowerbed, moaning softly at the delight of rich earth crumbling around my toes. One foot isn’t enough—I plant both feet in the soil and close my eyes, relishing the delicate fragrance of the night, the faint chirp of nocturnal insects, and the breeze cooling my skin. I’ve almost forgotten about the Ash King and my plan to spy on him.
And then a voice directly behind me makes me jump.
“Healer. What are you doing?”
I startle so violently that I lose my balance and tumble face first into a cluster of broad damp leaves and heavy blossoms. I yelp, trying to disentangle myself without bruising the plants any further.
A strong hand closes around my wrist and pulls me out of the flowerbed. My feet are flecked with soil, and the knees of my silky new pants are grimed with it. I brush twigs and leaves from my tunic and look up into the stern pale face of the Ash King. He’s flanked by two of his guards, and he wears a loose black shirt whose scooped neck hangs nearly to his navel, showing off the center of his chest and the first couple pairs of abs.
“What areyoudoing, Your Majesty?” I respond. “I thought you were—over there.” I gesture toward the festivities.
“I’m on my way there now. But I happened to see a certain vagabond Healer wading in the dirt, and I got distracted.”
“Vagabond?” I giggle. “That’s a new one.”
“It suits you.” A smile plays over his lips. “How did it go today?”
“If it pleases Your Majesty, I’ll give you my report later,” I tell him. “These girls should have the chance at a first impression that’s not colored by anything I have to say.”
“As if your opinion carries so much weight with me.” But he doesn’t say it scornfully, more like he’s testing me, pushing me.
“I suppose it’s not really a first impression, with most of them, is it? You’ve spent time with their families before.”
“Some of them I’ve met previously, yes.” There’s a sudden tension to the lines of his body and the shape of his mouth. “Healer, would you—would you care to join us for the party?”
A shiver of emotion passes through my heart—I’m not sure if it’s surprise or delight. “Is that appropriate, Your Majesty? I am only the healer, and this event is private time for you and the Favored. It wouldn’t be right.” And it will only fuel the girls’ suspicions about my relationship with the King.
He hesitates, dark eyes lowered. He’s wearing gold paint across his eyelids, and I hate that it suits him so well. I also hate that he’s nervous, because it makes him seem vulnerable. It makes me want to protect and encourage him like I would anyone else who needed me.
“They are just girls looking for love,” I say quietly.
“No.” His eyes snap to mine. “They are wolves hunting for a crown, sirens who crave a throne.”
“Not all of them.”
“The rest have been pressured to be here, forced to participate. They do not want me.”
“Give them a chance. Some of them might surprise you.” I yield to an inner urge and add, “Look for Khloe, Vanas, Teagan, and Sabre.”
His shoulders relax a little. “I will.”
As I’m turning away, he says, “Your full report, later tonight.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
