Page 60 of The King's Queen

“We were attacked on the way back from the Falls, Rebels who wanted to murder me. Rowan killed them all, and I…” My voice trails off and Torin lets me lean against his shoulder for support. “I killed one. Raiko and the others, they were all killed. Rowan and I split up so he could draw them away.”

A hush falls over the room as my hands begin to tremble again. In the relief of being home and seeing all their faces, I almost forgot the sins I committed last night. Then I notice the closed windows and the silent halls.

I frown. “What time is it?”

My three friends exchange heavy glances, but it is Blaine who speaks. His voice is surprisingly soft and low as he allows his gaze to finally raise to mine.

“Around midnight. Vera, you’ve been asleep for two days.”

It feels as if my bed has been pulled out from under me, and I lay gasping on the stone floor. Two days? How is that possible?

“You were exhausted. The healers did all they could for your superficial wounds, but they said there was a deep weariness in your soul that they couldn’t touch. Not without…”

“Magic.” I finish for Tanja. I squeeze the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger. “So they did use healers.”

“We did all we could, but it was the king’s orders.” Torin’s shoulders slump and he rests his head on mine. A low fury broils in my gut. My wounds were not severe. They could have used regular medics.

Healers are people like me, people gifted by the divine, but rather than shoot light from their hands, they have the ability to heal. However, I’m learning that all magic, light and dark, comes with a cost. To heal someone, a healer must absorb the pain of the wound themselves. Invisible pain torments them for however long the natural healing process of the wound would have been. Sometimes they die from sheer shock of the pain.

When I was little, I thought healers were saints. I couldn’t imagine inflicting pain upon myself just so another wouldn’t have to bear it. Then I learned the ugly truth. The healers were more slaves than saints. By the age of fifteen, all healers are required by law to report to the palace and be dispersed across the kingdom for their abilities. To refuse or hide one’s ability is considered treason and punishable by death.

“My wounds weren’t even that severe! I am pureblood, I have accelerated healing. They could have only called for a medic.” I fling myself back against my pillows, disgusted by the relief I’d felt when I awoke to my back no longer aching. “Where’s Rowan?”

That same hush falls over the room. My heart stops in my chest.

“Where is Rowan?” I repeat, frantic now. Tanja moves Torin to come sit at my side and wraps her willowy fingers around my wrist.

“Rowan hasn’t been found yet.”

“That’s not possible. He would’ve come by now.”

“Vera.”

“No!” I whirl towards the three of them, their faces the perfect mix of shock and sympathy. “He is alive. You’ve seen what he can do. He’s alive.”

I yank my arm from Tanja. The maid schools her countenance into cool indifference as she folds her hands.

“Lower your voice before the wrong person hears. Rowan has not been found yet, but a note was left for you by a woman. Presumably the Noiteron’s assassin?” I stare agape at the young woman, who laughs drily. “Did you really think I wouldn’t find out? I knew who Rowan was the moment I laid eyes on him. And that date the night of your betrothal was all an excuse to buy you time to escape.”

I’m sure I must be the perfect imitation of a koi fish, similar to the ones that swim in the pond below my window. My jaw goes slack, and my eyebrows raise simultaneously. Tanja only smirks.

“So let me get this straight. You all can find out almost anything in this palace, and I, heir to the throne, know fucking nothing.”

Tanja smiles sweetly. “This is why you should always be kind to the help. You have your armies, but we have the ultimate power. Invisibility. We hear and know everything.”

My mouth runs dry. Laei. I am so naive.

“Does this mean all the other servants know what I’ve been doing. Who Rowan is?”

“No. Lucky for you, you’ve got the princess’ Lady in Waiting, the Captain of the Guard, and his assistant,” Torin protests his title, but Tanja continues anyway, “keeping any rumors from people’s mouths and ears. As far as servant hierarchy goes, we are gods, so you don’t need to worry.”

A low laugh drifts in on the evening breeze. My bedroom door swings open silently, and a tall figure walks in cloaked by darkness.

“Don’t forget the entirety of the Nightwalkers at your disposal.” Rowan’s smirk is evident even in the shadows. “You’ve made yourself a powerful inner circle, Verosa.”

I study his form as he walks. No limp or stumble as he carries himself with his usual powerful stride. A hunter constantly on the prowl. I can see no visible wounds on him, and his rolled-up sleeves show no new lacerations as well. I sigh in relief, then push myself off the bed.

Rowan smiles softly, as if expecting an embrace. His jaw slackens as my fist drives right into his gut.

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