By sealing the wounds, I’ve given her body the respite it needs to heal. Highborn fae may recover faster than lowborn fae, but significant wounds like these take time.
Lilis’s thumping heart calms, and her sobbing breaths become quiet, although her purple eyes remain dull.
“Call your wolf,” I repeat to her, more softly now, but without a hint of pity. “Retrieve your sword. Then wait here until I’m ready to leave.”
My footfalls sink into the churned-up snow as I carve a path back to Thyra. Along the way, I take note of Lilis’s faint whistle and how quickly her wolf appears in the distance and races to her. Also, how fast the wolf sinks into the snow, allowing Lilis to climb up and lie across his back, her head on his neck.
I’m nearly to Thyra, conscious that Lilis is turned in my direction, and now I have decisions to make.
Always, I must consider my actions.
How I behave around Thyra now will send stronger messages than words ever could. Even in Lilis’s unwell state, she will be watching.
Reaching Thyra, I deliberately lower myself down into the snow, kneeling opposite her.
I choose an angle that allows me to keep Lilis in mysights.
I don’t miss the drop of her jaw.
I never kneel. Not to anyone. Ever.
By doing this, I’ve sent an unmistakable message to Lilis that will filter through to the soldiers in my army and beyond: Thyra is my equal.
Unfortunately, it will only put a greater target on Thyra’s back.
“Is Lilis okay?” Thyra reaches for me, her mittened hand extending toward me. An innocent gesture. But I quickly lean back, leaving her arm outstretched between us.
Confusion creases her forehead, and I know that, soon enough, I will need to explain the sudden change in my behavior, but…
Fuck, the weight of the dangers ahead of us consumes me. Not least because, despite all of my cautions, Thyra’s first instinct was to help Lilis.
I can’t keep the harshness from my tone when I ask, “You care about Lilis because…?”
Thyra slowly retracts her arm and leans against Nara once more. “Because I’m?—”
Her mouth snaps shut.
“Not heartless,” I finish for her. “But I am. And so is Lilis. Make no mistake, she would strike you down in a heartbeat. Stab you through the throat, wipe the blood from her blade, and spare not a backward glance.”
Thyra’s focus shifts to Lilis, but her mittened hand brushes the coil of hair concealing the side of her neck. “You warned me to hide my wounds.” She pauses. “Lilis is visibly injured. That means she’s in trouble, isn’t she?”
“Yes. She’s in trouble. But as I said, you must not help her. Not even here, where it is just the three of us.”
Thyra’s hand drops to her lap, shadows forming in her eyes.
She’s quiet for a moment, her lips pressing lightly, her forehead creasing more deeply.
Then she speaks, slowly and carefully. “I would like to leave the bloodshed of this place, but I want to tell you what I saw in my Oracle vision. A version of the future that fills me with questions that may take…some time to answer.”
Her eyes meet mine, her chin tipped up.
If I could still feel compassion, I might admire how cleverly Thyra has aided Lilis. The longer we stay here talking, the more time Lilis has to rest and heal.
But in contrast, Thyra will weaken without food and water. The icy temperatures of my home may not have the same dehydrating effects as the Ember Kingdom, but thirst is as much a danger here as it is anywhere. Too many illnesses are carried in this snow. All water must be boiled before it’s drunk.
As for food, I can hear the rumbling of her hollow stomach, the strain on her body after she survived the night against all odds and now needs sustenance.
“We can stay,” I reply. “But only for a short time while you tell me what you foresaw.”
