Aloisia screamed.
The hawk called another warning. Too late.
The smell of broth was the first thing Aloisia noticed as her eyes snapped open. Her stomach growled, and for a moment, her hunger drowned out her pain. Then, as she tried to sit up, her ribs screamed in protest, the agony surging once more like a turn of nausea.
“No, no.” Hands pushed her back into the furs. “Don’t try to get up.”
Tristan.
Despite the pain, Aloisia swung her arm out and slapped him across the face, her rage overtaking anything else she felt for but a moment.
“Ow!” he yelped, retreating from her.
Then the moment ended. Aloisia whimpered, clutching her ribs as the pain forced the air from her lungs.
“Honestly.” Ma stood at a table on the far side of the room, her hands on her hips. “I cannot turn my back for two seconds.”
In the silence Aloisia noticed for the first time her bed had been moved downstairs, beside her fire pit. Her dark hair was loose, free of braids and beads.
“Lis?” Tristan approached her again.
“You traitorous little whelp,” Aloisia hissed. “How dare you come here?”
Tristan cradled his cheek, which was now flaring red in the shape of a palm. “I know you think what I did was a betrayal—”
“I think nothing. It was a betrayal. We’re supposed to be helping Fynn!” Aloisia sucked in a sharp breath, her ribs protesting her wrath, and she sank back into the furs around her. “You may as well tie his noose yourself.”
Tristan flinched.
“Now, now.” Ma brought a stool to her side and patted her arm. “The last thing anyone needs is you two at each other’s throats. There is time yet.”
“Nine days,” Aloisia muttered.
“Seven,” Tristan corrected her, wringing his hands.
“What?”
“You’ve been unconscious for almost three days, Lis.”
Aloisia looked to her mother for confirmation.
Ma nodded. “You’ve been coming in and out of consciousness for the past two, almost three days, since they brought you back from the hunt.”
Aloisia searched her memory, trying to place what had happened. Deer fleeing before them, arrows falling around her, dark eyes and blood.
“What happened?” she asked.
“A rogue stag attacked you,” Mavka answered, pausing at the threshold to her home. “May I enter?”
Aloisia nodded.
“It’s good to see you awake. And holding a conversation this time.” Mavka smiled, relief plain on her face.
“If it’s been almost three days… What about the trial?”
Mavka glanced at Ma and Tristan. “There is another in two days’ time. The penultimate trial, before their final trial where the verdict will be given.”
Aloisia’s stomach flipped at the thought.
