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“Thank you,” I tell them.Please, let it be enough.
Without another word, I take Moria’s hand, and she shifts us from the battlefield.
Chapter 44
ThehealersseetoSigurd the moment we return, tending his wounds and encouraging him to rest and recover from the fight. Of course, he insists on them attending to me first—ridiculous man. Not that there is much for them to do. Katiya’s concoction of herbs, whatever it was, worked wonders on my hand already, and my other wounds are minor scrapes and bruises. The blood on me is the worst, but it mostly isn’t mine, just another reminder of how close Sigurd came to losing today, first to the Unseelie, then to Riven.
Two kings against one truly wasn’t fair, particularly not given his condition before the battle. Moria informed me that Sigurd hadn’t slept since I was taken, and it basically took both her and Hawke staying on him constantly to make sure he didn’t run off on his own to try to save me, not even knowing exactly where I was.
Now that would have been something to see.
After I bathe, Uncle Mark basically force feeds and coddles me like the child I no longer am. Once he asks for the millionth time if I am truly all right and I tell Hawke and Moria what little I saw and learned while with the Unseelie, I am finally allowed to see Sigurd.
They placed him in the private chambers of the King of Air, a place I know he hates, but I’m secretly excited to finally get to see them. I always wondered what lurked beyond the other locked door off the main sitting room.
Now, I finally get to know.
Stone stairs twist upward, lit by floating balls of light evenly spaced along the walk. Bright light floods in ahead, alerting me to the end of the staircase. It spills out into a massive open room. Pillars reach skyward, supporting a roof of glass that arches high above. Even more eagles roost on its surface than they did atop my former room, creating odd spots of shadow against an otherwise bright blue sky. There are no walls in this room—I guess magic must keep the rain and cold out, but light curtains flutter between the pillars, providing the illusion of privacy from the balcony running in a circle around the room and the open air beyond. Sparse but ornate furniture punctuates the space, and there, near one side and laid atop a massive circular bed, is Sigurd.
Pillows are propped behind him so that he’s half sitting where he speaks with a pair of fae healers who crowd next to his bed.
“Finally, someone I want to see.” The pleasure in Sigurd’s tone adds lightness to my steps as I cross the room. Already, I can tell he’s much better. He shoos the healers away, insisting he’ll rest as they request. As they disappear down the stairs, he grumbles, “Fussing over me like I’m some foolish child.”
I arch a brow at him. “You were quite badly injured.”
“And you?” He reaches for me, nearly tumbling off the pillows, so I take a seat on the edge of the bed next to him. The skirts of my dress float out around my legs to drape down the sides of the comforter.
“I’m fine. Really,” I promise. “You had the healers see to me yourself, right? I’m sure they reported my condition.”
His hand tightens on mine. “In the past, they’ve…” He trails off with a shake of his head. “I have to know, Wren. If they did anything to you, if there’s anything you didn’t tell the healers.”
The look in his eyes speaks volumes. He’s worried that whatever happened to Evelyn all those years ago happened to me too. Thankfully though, these Unseelie didn’t treat me so poorly.
“I promise. All they did was take some of my blood to apply to the king’s sword. Just a scratch,” I add quickly at his wide-eyed look. “He said something about how the blood of a marked human was supposed to help it regain its power, but I don’t think mine worked.”
“But you bear my mark.” Sigurd drops my hand to run his fingertips over my hip, stirring up a flock of butterflies within me.
“I know. The sword felt different after. There was a slight humming sound like the cauldron but much quieter. Kallan said my blood wasn’t enough. It didn’t repower the sword as he’d hoped.”
And thank goodness for that. The Unseelie king was powerful enough as it was, even without his magical sword. If he finds a way to repower it, I shudder to think what he’ll be able to achieve. Katiya said something strange too. Something about opening the world to them, whatever that means. Nothing good, I’m sure. I wish I could have learned something more helpful, but at the same time, I’m so glad to be free.
“I guess it’s a good thing they didn’t decide to spill more of my blood, just to be sure.” I shrug and try to make light of the situation.
But Sigurd takes the comment to heart. His eyes flare with a bright glow. His lips pull back in a snarl. “If they’d dared—”
“They didn’t.” I lay my hand on his, giving it a gentle squeeze. The glow from his eyes dims, and he seems to relax back into the cushions. “More importantly, how are you?”
He sighs and forces a weak smile. “Much better now,” he promises, lifting my hand to his lips and placing a gentlemanly kiss upon its back. “Though they still insist I stay abed today.”
I shrug. “You can’t blame them for worrying. I—” Emotion chokes off my words, and I swallow it down. “When I saw you fighting…”
“You ran for me,” Sigurd finishes for me. “That might have been a more terrifying sight than seeing you shift in with them. At least then I knew some of what to expect and could brace for it. But watching you rush into danger…” He shakes his head. “I never want to see that again.”
“Then maybe don’t duel the Unseelie king?” I give him a pointed look.
His thumb rubs little circles on my palm. “You think I wouldn’t risk that or more to see you safe?”
The look he gives me has my stomach doing little somersaults. I pull my bottom lip between my teeth.
