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I left the training room, stopping briefly to see if Ana was in her makeshift infirmary. The room itself was quiet, now only occupied with three patients, including Petar. Unlike the other two, he was awake, his injured leg resting on top of his blankets, propped up high with pillows. When he saw me, he straightened.
“My queen,” he said, bowing his head. “It is good to see you again.”
“Good afternoon, Petar,” I said, smiling. “Are you feeling well?”
“Very well, my queen,” he said, though I noticed he seemed hot. There was a thin sheen of sweat covering his face.
“You are certain?” I said. “You look…a little pale.”
But pale wasn’t the word. He looked…green.
“It is nothing, my queen. Only pain. Lady Ana replaced my bandages. You just missed her if she is who you were looking for.”
“And what if I came to check on you, Petar?” I asked with a small smile.
“I am not worthy of the honor,” he replied.
“Of course you are,” I said. “You fought to protect your people. There is nothing more honorable.”
“That is kind of you to say,” he said, bowing his head again.
That was the second time he had called me kind.
This time, I did not disagree.
I retrieved a strip of cloth from Ana’s supplies and left the small infirmary. As I bandaged my hand, I glanced up and peeked into the old sanctuary, only to find Ana standing over Isla’s body. She had drawn her shroud down, exposing her face to the grim light. I wondered how long she would let her lover rot in this dark cavern, but even I could not bring myself to ask when she might let her go. I had no right. I had not lost Adrian.
Ana’s head shot up as I entered, and she dropped her hands from atop Isla’s body. My face grew hot with shame—I should have never interrupted her. I hesitated a step and then spoke.
“I’m sorry. I should not—” I stopped talking abruptly and turned to leave.
“No, it’s okay,” Ana called, though her voice trembled. “I have been here too long.”
I relented, facing her again. She had covered Isla once more and came around the stone altar, dressed in black. Her eyes blazed, rimmed red from her tears.
I took a step closer to her and spoke in a hushed tone. The weight in this room demanded it.
“Nothing is too long when it is goodbye.”
She offered a slight smile and we walked together to the opposite end of the sanctuary, putting distance between us and Isla’s corpse.
Though we had learned with Ciro that vampires who were consumed by the mist stayed dead, I could not help feeling unsettled so near a corpse. I had seen too many reanimate and rise, only to cause complete chaos.
“Did you need me?” Ana asked.
Our steps slowed until we came to a stop, and I studied her, wishing I could give her time to grieve before approaching this, but things had escalated too quickly, especially after court. I felt as though we had no time, but before I could speak, Ana’s eyes fell to the hand I had crudely bandaged.
“What happened?”
“Nothing,” I said. “Just…a small cut.”
“That does not look small, Isolde.”
The bandage was already soaked through with blood.
“Adrian can heal it,” I said.
She did not look pleased with my response, but relented. After a moment, I took a breath.
