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“—ancient scrolls. Scholars were lucky enough to copy them before they crumbled to dust. As my son said, they spoke of a woman such as you—a woman with the gift from the Creator to heal. I didn’t dare hope. When she fell ill, we began the search. For six long months the sickness has eaten away at her insides, having gradually increased her torment. I watched her grow weak, powerless to do anything. My dearest Sorfrona. My wife. My queen.” Sieffre’s voice broke.
I saw the faintest tremble in his hands.
“She’s on her final breath. Her agony’s so great my physician keeps her sedated…” The king lifted his head, and his icy eyes met mine. “So forgive me if I don’t believe, in her last hour, you’ve finally come!”
The king leapt from his throne, unsheathing a dagger from beneath his robes. In a rugged outcry, he lunged toward me.
“Father!” Kenrik yelled.
Owein jumped up. “Niawen!”
I reacted on instinct. As if an extension of my arm, my light coiled out and seized the king’s wrist, immobilizing his steps. I told the light to squeeze ever so slightly until the king dropped his blade.
Disarmed, he crumpled to his knees, and Kenrik ran to him.
That’s when I noticed the guards surrounding me, with lances pointed at my heart.
Sieffre groaned, but rose with Kenrik’s help. “At ease, men. At ease.”
The men lowered their lances but didn’t withdraw.
“Father, are you insane?” Kenrik asked. “I told you, she can save—”
King Sieffre motioned for his son to be silent before clapping him on the shoulder. “It was a test, my dear boy.”
Sieffre’s eyes brightened. The blue in them shone clear as he stepped past his son and lifted my hand to his mouth to kiss it. “You, my lady, are most welcome. I have no doubt you are the one we seek.”
His hope was radiant.
“Take me to her,” I said, unperturbed by his attack. I supposed at this moment, I realized I didn’t fear this breed of mortal. I was more powerful than all of them.
A sweaty, red-faced boy, no more than five years old, ran into the throne room. “Kenrik!”
The child ran to Kenrik, and he scooped the boy up.
“My nephew, Prince Brenin,” Sieffre said as he ruffled the boy’s brown curls.
Out of breath, a young woman with thick, wavy hair ran into the room. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Your Majesty, but I can’t keep Brenin away from Kenrik. He misses him dearly. I fear our visit won’t be enough to satisfy his longing.”
Sieffre laughed. “Fine, let him come. My spirits are high. Lady Niawen, may I present my sister-in-law, Queen Tiwlip.”
“Pleasure to meet you.” I inclined my head. “I don’t mean to skip pleasantries, but Sorfrona’s predicament calls to me. I cannot bear the thought of her suffering any longer.”
THIRTEEN
Through the dimly lit chamber, I made out an emaciated figure swathed in blankets on the bed. Her forearms were exposed, and black, slug-like creatures clung to them.
“What’s on her?” I rushed forward to inspect the foul creatures.
A gray-bearded man standing beside the bed spoke. “Leeches, to clean the blood.”
I scowled. Eccentric fool! “Take them off her now! Sorfrona’s already frail enough. I can’t make blood, you imbecile. It’ll take weeks to regain her full strength at the rate you’re healing her.”
Sieffre pushed his way to his beloved and squeezed her hand after perching on the bed. “Do as she says. Lady Niawen has charge.”
The physician’s lip quivered. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
As the physician plucked the offensive things off, I spoke. “Clear the room. Only the king and his son may stay.” I glanced at Owein, who hovered at my elbow. “And my friend.”
