Behind me, Cordelle said nothing, but I felt the way his body went rigid against mine.
“We nearly died out there,” I said, stepping forward, anger simmering. “You’re telling me that because of some, somepolitical bullshit, we don’t get treatment?”
Her jaw flexed. “It’s notme,Ashe.”
I could see it in her eyes then.
She was furious.Not at me. Not at Cordelle.
At him.
She glanced quickly around the room, then stepped closer, slipping a small pot of pale green paste into my hand. “This willslow infection. Reduce fever. Don’t use too much. And don’t let them see you have it.”
I stared at her, stunned.
She didn’t wait for thanks.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Truly. But this… this isTheron.”
And the last of my hope that this was some administrative mistake cracked like ice underfoot.
He wasn’t just targeting Zander anymore.
He was targetingus.
I helped Cordelle through the gardens and over the Ascension Grounds, his weight a sluggish drag on my shoulder, but he tried to walk as upright as he could, still proud even with blood crusted down his arm and exhaustion hollowing his face. The door to our barracks creaked open, and the moment we stepped inside, the squad shot to their feet.
“Why isn’t he healed?” Jax demanded, moving toward us fast, eyes flaring with fury.
I guided Cordelle to his bed before answering. “Because Meri wasn’t allowed to treat him.”
“What?” Naia snapped, pushing past Ferrula. “Why the hell not?”
I grabbed the salve Meri had given me and peeled back the bandage on Cordelle’s shoulder. The wound was raw, angry, the skin around it red with the start of fever. I said nothing at first, just smeared the paste gently across the open gash. Cordelle winced but didn’t make a sound.
“Because the healers were ordered to withdraw their support fromus,” I finally said, voice low and bitter. “From Thrall Squad.”
There was a beat of silence before Jax exploded. “What?!”
He slammed a fist into the wall, making the wooden panel rattle.
“I swear to the gods, I will gut that bastard myself,” Ferrula growled. “Order or not.”
Riven muttered something venomous under her breath. Even Tae looked deadly serious, no trace of his usual humor on his face.
Cordelle opened one eye, his voice soft but calm. “It’s okay. The salve’s working. I can already feel it. I just… need to sleep.”
I nodded, tucking the blanket around him. “Your power—Flourish—it connects to nature. Maybe the ingredients in the paste are helping soothe the wound.”
He gave me a small smile before drifting into unconsciousness.
But my fury didn’t fade.
It deepened.
The others began murmuring, quickly shifting from shock to strategy. What to do, who to speak with, how we could push back against this, but I could barely hear them over the rush in my ears. All I wanted was to storm the castle and shove this injustice in Theron’s face.
I stood, my hands clenched into fists, already turning toward the door.
