I nod appreciatively as he saunters off. I meet Neris’s tired emerald eyes as I sink down to my knees at her bedside. “Neris …” My voice comes out as a mere whisper. “You imbecile.”
Her laughter sounds almost fractured—like she’s forgotten how to laugh. It’s more likely that it simply hurts too much.
“Guilty,” she says, shakily lifting a hand.
I reach out to take her hand, giving it the gentlest of squeezes as I hold back tears.
“Don’t look at me like that, Winnie. I’m fine.”
“You’re—” My voice catches, and I inhale deeply before clearing my throat. “This is my fault.”
“Did you shove me into Gruffud? Did you force me to attack him?”
“No, but?—”
“But what? There was nothing you could’ve done. Gruffud is a prick. He’s always been a prick. No one can change him. He would’ve slaughtered you to save his own ass.”
“I could’ve handled him myself. I wouldn’t have let him slaughter me.” Except he had been close to at least throttling me until unconscious.
Neris studies me somberly. Then she sighs gently and says, “It feels like my back is one giant wound. It’s healed now, miraculously. But I’ve been told it’ll scar.” A playful glint appears in her eyes. “Maybe it’ll make me look like a force to be reckoned with.”
“Only if you walk around topless,” I say, swiping away a stray tear.
Neris gives that odd little laugh again, and it physically hurts me.
I ignore the tug from within me that resurfaces and force my mind away from the searing heat of a flaming axe swinging through darkness. The image comes unbidden far too easily for my liking, and I’m sick of it.
Blinking, I find Neris staring at me as if I’ve been in my mind for far longer than I’ve realized.
“Care to share?” Neris asks, her brow cocked.
“Just exhausted. Training.”
Her jaw drops. “Training? Like a soldier?”
“As a Zenith member.” My heart hiccups uncomfortably.
“Oh, Winnie,” she says with what looks like pity in her eyes. How can she pitymefrom where she sits?
I stand, craving silence now that I see Neris is on the mend. “You should get some rest, Neris. It’s so nice to see you awake again. Keep healing, alright?”
“Winnie, wait. Are you sure—” She stops talking abruptly and glances around, checking if Vaughn is listening. She doesn’t say much else; she only stares at me with that calculating look.
“I’m fine. I’m working on things.” I can’t say much else aloud.
Neris nods very slightly. “I’ve been told that as soon as I’m mended, I can reside in a guest room here. At least temporarily. Is this because of your new role?”
“Perhaps,” I say with a forced smile, walking backward to the door. At least that’s one good thing that’s come from this arrangement.
The night brings feverish sweats and more agony than I think I can survive. Come morning, the inside of my cheek has been gnawed raw, my lip is swollen and split from holding back screams, and my throat is burning from retching for hours. The pain has subsided, but my body is drained of energy.
I’m noticeably shaking by the time I make it to the infirmary. Neris is asleep when I ask Vaughn for a few small doses of valbane to keep in my bedchamber. He hesitates at first, but then obliges when I explain the severity of my pain episodes. He gives me a draft of replenishing herbal tea and tells me to get some rest. As much as I want to look for Father and find out more information about this organization, I drag myself back to bed and sleep for the rest of the day.
Days of training go by, but I never return to the infirmary to visit Neris. It’s too painful to see her in a place where I might as well have personally escorted her. I don’t have much freedom in the castle as a trainee, but whenever I move through the hallways between the dining room and the training yard, I hope to catch a glimpse of my father. I stare desperately at every guard. I strain my senses to hopefully hear his name uttered. But no such thing happens and the pit in my stomach grows deeper with grief.
By the end of the week, I find myself preparing for my first mission.
I don’t recognize the woman staring back at me in the mirror. The deep brown of my skin seems dulled, the waves in my ash brown hair limper than ever. I ache almost constantly, the nightly flareups from the aftereffects of the Cleanse barelymanageable even with high doses of valbane. Nights are hellish, and mornings are muddled with overwhelming exhaustion. I cannot tell if this version of my life is better than the last—it feels equally miserable at times, but more bearable at others.
