Page 143 of The Exquisite Torment of Loving Your Enemy

“His eyes…?”

“He will fully recover.”

“Are you sure? He overexerted himself so much, his Cost ate them up—”

“I’m the regeneration specialist. Don’t offend me by asking if I’m sure,” said Xanthe.

Aurienne settled back onto her pillow. She could rest easier now. “Thank you.”

“It’s him we need to thank,” came Cath’s voice.

Xanthe turned. “You’re awake, are you?”

“Aurienne’s distressed squeaks woke me up,” said Cath as Élodie stretched herself awake, too.

“How are you feeling?” asked Xanthe.

“All right, considering how intimately acquainted with my Cost I got,” said Cath.

“Agreed,” said Aurienne, flexing her scarred, stiff hands.

“You have very pretty metacarpals, Aurienne,” said Cath. “I hope I never see them again.”

Élodie burst into tears. “The guilt—the guilt of not being here—is going to haunt me for the rest of my days.”

Xanthe, looking a combination of grim and nauseated, nodded.

“What happened at Tintagel?” asked Aurienne.

“A clever delaying tactic by the Dumnonian queen. She knew that when the Dreor arrived at Swanstone, the Wardens would come en masse to defend it, so she made sure to lock their Order down. She was pleased to do so—she and Dinadan had a very public clash. The presence of so many Haelan at Tintagel, including the three Heads, was entirely accidental.”

“The Wardens didn’t take kindly to being besieged in their own château,” said Élodie with a shudder. “I don’t think the queen understood what she had attempted to trap. Or what it means to pit those with tacn against regular soldiers, regardless of numbers.”

“Dinadan talked to the officers and gave them a chance to walk away,” said Xanthe. “They didn’t. Queen’s orders. Of course, by that time our deofols had reported that the Dreor were attacking Swanstone and that there were only eight Wardens here, and we were acutely awareof how vital every passing minute was. So Dinadan sent out her Wardens, no holds barred, into a battalion of soldiers without tacn.”

Aurienne, who had witnessed the destruction that could be wrought by a mere handful of Wardens, said, “Fria.”

Élodie winced. “It was bad.”

“They decimated the battalion,” said Xanthe. “Any injuries were healed immediately by us. The waystone at Merlin’s Last Drop—just outside Tintagel’s walls, if you remember—had been destroyed. We had to go to the next village. It’s why we were so late.” Xanthe sighed heavily. “We almost didn’t make it in time. All three Heads wish to resign.”

“You came as soon as you could,” said Cath.

“You were all magnificent,” said Xanthe.

“Those eight Wardens were heroes,” said Aurienne. “Some fell, Xanthe…”

“I know,” said Xanthe. “We’re going to commemorate them permanently, here at Swanstone.”

“What about the two Fyren?” asked Élodie. She turned to Aurienne. “Tit Wank Man is a Fyren. Did you know that?”

“Yes,” said Aurienne.

Xanthe grimaced. “We are indeed aware.”

Cath stared at the ceiling and repeated in disbelief, “Tit Wank Man is a Fyren. We thought he was just an informant. And Aurienne’s socially inept lover.”

Xanthe turned to Aurienne with her brows raised. “As for lover—that, I cannot speak to.”