My gaze wanders over the curtains. “Briar?” I rasp.
“Resting. Now, you need to take water and a pain tincture.”
Before I can protest, Kassandra dips between the curtains, and when she reappears, she holds a glass of water. Gentle, ghostly hands prop me up against the pillows. This time, I do not fear them. Kassandra tips back my head and slips water between my chapped lips, cool and soothing, coating my tongue and throat. I lean forward to gulp more.
“Not too much at once, or you’ll be sick.” She retrieves a small vial from a pocket in her tunic. “A pain tincture. May I give it to you?”
Nodding, I do not meet her gaze. Kassandra drips the warm tincture into my mouth, an echo of another night with a brother and broken arms. Warmth blossoms on my tongue, filling my chest, leaving my head fuzzy. She lowers me back to the pillows, frowning.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble.
“For what?”
“I didn’t get the proof.” My voice cracks. “I didn’t get the proof you asked for.”
“Hush now,” she chides. “He’ll still be a halfling tomorrow. We’ll figure it out.” But her mouth pinches tight.
“You’re angry.” I sound like a child, but I feel like one now: terrified.
“The Healer said your genius and body were equally harmed,” she says. I wait, unsure if there’s a question in her statement. Kassandra sits on the edge of the mattress, eyes burning into me. “You battled with the king, both physically and magically.”
I nod.
“Why would you do that?” she seethes. “His genius could’ve crushed yours.”
“It didn’t.”
“But it should’ve.”
“You think me so weak?”
“You could’ve died!”
“I know.”
“You have always been careless with your life! And so you are careless with others.”
Anger roils around in me. “What was I supposed to do, Kassandra?”
“Live!” she shouts. “You are supposed to want to live!”
Why do you care?I want to yell, but the words disintegrate on my tongue. Neither of us is brave enough to name why she cares.Maybe the Heart of Illusion is not so unfeeling. Maybe she bleeds for only a select few.
“I do want to live,” I say, and for the first time since Jeremee’s death, it is not a lie. Yet she is not convinced.
“Then act like it.”
“If I stay here and hide from the king, will it matter? He will just find me. If he wants to silence me, he will. But…he didn’t. He wants something from me. We can use this to get the proof we need.”
She falls silent, then surveys me again. “Your magic smells different. It’s…richer now. And it was rich before.”
“Finally tolerable to you?”
“I never truly hated it,” she mutters.
“No, you just humiliated me for it.”
Kassandra looks away. “I was a fool, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything I have done to you. I’m sorry for the actions of my brother. I’m sorry he sold us both to the king, and that you were so greatly harmed. There is little I can say to make it up to you.”
