Valric grunts next to me. “Was no fluke, My Queen.”
I look over my shoulder at him in confusion. “What?”
“Your mother was a healer. She would often wander the forest in search of injured animals or sick trees and give them the boost they needed. But it comes at a price.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this during training?” I demand.
“Why didn’t you tell me you’ve healed before?” he volleys back immediately.
My mouth opens, but nothing comes out. “Touche,” I finally concede. “Well then, how do I heal him?”
“He will heal on his own in a few hours,” Valric utters simply, turning and making his way over to the horses.
I sit here stunned for a second before jumping to my feet and charging after him.
“Valric!”
“Yes, Your Majesty?” He spins around so fast I almost crash into him.
“How do I heal him?”
“You don’t.”
“But–”
“He will live. You shouldn’t waste your energy on healing him. There will be more battles to come.”
Chapter fifty-eight
Everly
Back in Storm’s saddle, I hold the reins tightly as we make our way through the deepening snow. The silence between us is thick; even Storm’s hooves fall muffled against the fresh powder. Valric has taken the lead, riding ahead, giving me ample time to glare at his back. Why wouldn’t he tell me how to heal Kian? Yes, he is fine now and riding between Raiden and Zaria, but still, this is a part of me that I wish to know.
“Your Majesty,” Tristan’s voice breaks into my dark thoughts. I turn, drawn from my brooding, and meet his steady gaze.
A sigh escapes me, and I force a small, weary smile. “Call me Everly, please. It’s just us here.”
Tristan’s nose wrinkles, as if I’ve just suggested something scandalous.
“But you are the queen,” he objects, his voice quiet but insistent.
“Yes, but right now, I’d prefer to be Everly,” I reply, a faint teasing lilt slipping into my tone.
“Very well. You dropped these.” He holds out my gloves. I completely forgot about them. I’ve barely noticed the cold since the fight.
“Thanks, Tristan.” I reach out and take the gloves, slipping them into my satchel.
“It’s going to be nightfall soon. We need to find shelter,” Raiden announces.
Nymeria nudges my leg, drawing my attention down to her.‘There is a rocky outcrop about a mile up the mountain that will offer the shelter you need.’
With a grin, I lean down and run my hand over Nymeria’s head, her fur warm and soft beneath my fingers. She tilts her head up to meet my gaze, her amber eyes wide and alert.
“Thanks, sweet girl,” I murmur, my voice low and grateful. She gives a soft huff, and I like to think it’s her way of saying,Of course.
“Nymeria says there’s a rocky outcrop a mile up the mountain,” I impart, looking at Raiden. “It’ll give us shelter from this wind.”
Valric turns his horse to face us, casting a glance at me before his gaze shifts down to the wolves padding alongside our horses. His stern expression eases as he watches them, his usual formality softening into something almost warm. The snow falls more heavily now, and I notice the wolves shaking it from their coats every few steps. They look like shadowy ghosts.
