Staring at the man sleeping in her room now, she felt oddly certain he was the one who’d saved her. Something about him, a small part of her recognized like a hazy dream.
Cassia lifted a hand to her aching forehead. The vines got in the way, restricting her movement. An embedded tendril pinched sharply in her elbow. She hissed a breath and dropped her arm back down again.
At the sound, the man on the chair jolted awake. He grabbed the hat off his face and sat upright. For a moment he stared at her, hat pressed over his heart. She stared straight back.
She was sure it was him, but she was seeing him for the first time with proper light and a clear mind. The stranger’s eyes were dark brown, long-lashed and set in a bronze face. His lips were full, his jaw square and shadowed with stubble. Black, curly hairhung past his chin. Without saying a word to her, he abruptly jammed the hat onto his head, stood from the chair in a fluid motion, and strode out.
For a bleary moment, she wondered if he was mad she’d interrupted his nap. A minute later, before she could come to her senses, a short blonde woman bustled into the room. Her teal dress was boxy. The full sleeves were bound tight from the elbow down, as seemed to be the fashion out here. The clothes would be breezy in summer and capable of settling over many thick layers in winter.
Cassia’s tall rescuer followed close on the woman’s heels, his face grim.
“You’re up! Splendid,” the woman said to Cassia, with a great big smile. “Back out in the hall, Master Riveker.”
“But–” the man started.
“No buts. Back in the hall.” For all the woman was half his height and spoke in a cheerful trill, she had a take-no-prisoners attitude about her. The man in leather scowled and shot one last glance at Cassia before turning on his heel to stride back out into the hall.
The blonde woman closed the door, then turned and approached Cassia. For a moment the woman busied herself inspecting the plant whose vines were wrapped around Cassia, checking the soil and the pliancy of the leaves, which had begun to droop from the effort of healing. Cassia watched the woman move about, her own head too muddled to ask what was happening.
Then the blonde woman turned back to her, with another big smile and what looked like pity in her eyes. For a delirious and exhausted moment Cassia wondered if the woman knew everything. If she pitied Cassia not because of her wounds,but because she’d failed her brother so thoroughly that Rylan wanted nothing to do with her.
“I’m Evelya, sweetness. The healer. Can you tell me your name?” Evelya asked briskly.
“Ca–” her dry throat caught. Cassia winced and tried again. “Cassia.”
“Just Cassia?”
“Cassia Clarek.” A habitual response, before she could think to lie.
Cassia and Rylan Clarek. That’s how she’d always introduced herself. The two of them. Not just the one. She supposed it was only going to be the one, from here on out.
“Do you remember how you got here?” Evelya asked gently, her eyes studying Cassia closely. Cassia shifted up on the bed.
She remembered the stranger, lifting her broken body in his sturdy arms. The murmur of his voice, assuring her all would be well. That he would save her.
“Um… yes.” How was she supposed to thank a man for saving her life?
“Dizzy? Nauseated? Ringing ears? Room too bright?”
“No, ma’am.” In truth, the rapid-fire questionsweremaking Cassia a little dizzy.
“How many fingers?” Evelya lifted one hand, eyes scrutinizing Cassia all the while.
“Three.”
“Good. Water, sweetness?”
“Yes, please,” Cassia croaked.
There was a pitcher on a table in the corner beside the bed, and a moment later she was drinking crisp, cold water from the heavy ceramic cup in her hands. Relief coursed down her throat as she emptied it rapidly. The water was so good it was worth ignoring the pinch of thetendrils in her arm.
“Can I have more?”
“Let’s see how that settles first. You were roughed up pretty bad. But by some miracle or another, you made it out without serious damage.”
“Oh. I’m fine?” Cassia said. She didn’t feel good enough for that statement to be true.
“Don’t misunderstand, Miss Clarek. You still need plenty of rest, but you aren’t bleeding on the inside or nursing broken bones. You slept two days with the root, and your body did a lot of healing in that time already.”
