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I glared at him, but with the way my body was sagging, I doubted I’d managed the menacing look I was going for. “Your concern is noted.” My voice was rough, like I’d smoked twenty packs of cigarettes. The dirt had dried my throat, and I desperately needed water. But there was one thing more important than that.
Ginevra.
My breath hitched, and I glanced back at King Kieran. The rest of the candidates were behind him, one in particular with dark hair spread around her and Rowan sitting next to her.
“What is she still doing here?” I shot to my feet, my knees almost giving out, but I remained standing. “She needs a doctor!”
“A doctor?” King Kieran’s brows furrowed. “What’s that?”
“Someone needs to help her.” I took a few steps but stumbled. “She’s seriously injured.”
Curry scoffed. “We don’t have healers. Besides, she’s already gone.”
My heart shattered. “No.” I got her here so she could get help. She wasn’t supposed to die. Helping her had somehow released my wings—she was part of the reason I’d survived. “I’m sure there’s something we can do. Maeve brought me a medicine that’s supposed to help hangovers—maybe it could help her too.”
“Her magic is already gone, Princess Alina,” King Kieran said slowly, a hint of confusion mixed in. “She died when you began your climb to make it back up here.”
The last bit of energy left me, and my body crumpled.
Strong arms wrapped around me, and my legs were swept out from underneath me. I opened my eyes and saw King Kieran’s face above mine.
He was carrying me.
His lips pressed into a line, and he shook his head. His expression showed confusion, disgust, or some combination of the two. But his eyes told a different story, and his crisp smell comforted me.
My eyes closed, and foolishly, I felt safe in his arms. Though it should have petrified me, I drifted out of consciousness.
“Is she up?” Orla’s shrill voice made my head pound.
I sucked in a breath, my chest and back screaming. The trial flooded back into my mind.
“Frozen sake, Orla.” Dallas moaned. “You just asked, and you get louder each time. If you’re trying to wake her up, get on with it. Don’t burst everyone’s eardrums.”
My eyes opened, and I found Maeve sitting on the edge of my bed between me and Orla. Orla was standing between the two chairs, her nostrils flaring. Despite the anger etched on her face and her clenched hands, she looked elegant and poised in her gold satin dress with her crown on her head.
“There you go.” Dallas waved a hand at me from his spot in the chair closest to my head. “Mission accomplished.” He wore a golden suit with a burnt-orange shirt, reminding me of a sunset. He also wore a crown similar to Orla’s but smaller.
No doubt a way for Orla to emphasize she was the blood royal.
Maeve twisted toward me, shifting her knee on the bed.
When the mattress moved, my muscles twinged.
“Do you need something for the discomfort?” she asked gently.
If it hadn’t hurt too much to laugh, I would’ve, but when my chest moved, all the air whooshed out of me. “No,” I croaked, my throat so dry it felt like sandpaper. I didn’t deserve medicine. I hadn’t saved Ginevra. I was alive, and she was dead. The least I could do was feel a little bit of the pain she’d felt at the end.
“Good.” Orla marched over to me, her wings exploding from her back, reminding me of fire. “After what you did out there, you deserve to feel every ounce of misery!”
I blinked. Luckily, that was the one movement that didn’t hurt. “What?” I wasn’t sure how I’d upset her other than, you know, not dying and all.
Maeve slowly stood and headed to the end table next to the window. In the distance, the moons were rising into the darkening sky.
“Saving that Winter fae and then collapsing.” Orla lifted both hands. “Are you trying to ruin our name?”
I was so lost and confused. “She needed help.” I winced. Talking essentially felt like a dagger stabbing me in the throat over and over again.
“Here.” Maeve poured water into a cup and helped me sit up.
