“It’s time to go,” she whispered.
I didn’t need to be told twice. After dipping my head respectfully, I followed her out of the grand door, leaving the foul-smelling chamber and the dying man inside it.
CHAPTER 3
Raena stayed by my side as we wandered back through the palace. Now that the sun was high in the sky, the corridors were stuffed with finely dressed court members. Each of them eyed us suspiciously as we passed by, and a few even dared to giggle when they turned back to their friends.
“Ignore them,” Raena grumbled, leading me down a smaller hallway. “While I love living in the palace, the shallowness of the aristocracy will never cease to surprise me.”
Though I’d never considered myself to be a beauty, I didn’t think my bare face warranted giggles. With every titter, my cheeks burned a harsher shade of red.
“We’ll swap your gown for something more suitable soon. Just wait till you try on the clothes I picked for you. Then we’ll see who’s laughing,” she said with a scoff.
Of course. They were laughing at my dress. I hadn’t changed since we’d arrived, and I was still wearing the plain beige gown,typical for girls in my village. There was nothing really flattering about it, with its long sleeves and dull fabric skirt – hardly a gown fit for a princess. Shame crept over me as my arms hugged my chest. If only there was some kind of elixir I could mix up to turn invisible; I’d down it in a heartbeat.
We passed through several more stone-walled hallways riddled with tittering court members until Raena eventually led me towards a huge archway.
“If we cut through this banquet hall, we’ll get to your room much faster.” She had to raise her voice to be heard over the raucous laughter and cheering from within the hall. The nerves must’ve been showing on my face because, before we stepped inside, she squeezed my hand reassuringly. “Just stay close to me and try to keep quiet. They’re running a duelling club today, so as long as you keep your head down, everyone will be too busy cheering on the fighters to notice you.”
I nodded. Truthfully, her words did little to steady my rocking stomach, but before I could insist we take another route, she tugged my arm towards the hall.
The banquet hall was overflowing with dozens upon dozens of people. Far too many people. Some were finely dressed, thickly perfumed nobles, clinking golden goblets and chattering amongst themselves. Others were plainly dressed servants or catering staff, confidently flitting between the groups of nobility, refilling empty goblets and sweeping away any finished plates.
If it weren’t for Raena’s grounding hand as she guided me around the long tables, I’d probably scream and hope the tiled floor gobbled me up. I’d never really understood why, but for as long as I could remember, bustling rooms would always make me feel like the whole world was caving in on me. Each unexpected noise and sudden movement would feel like a dozen talons scraping under my skin. The only way to make the panic stop would be to hide somewhere quiet and dark, or to forcemy mind to focus on something predictable and repetitive. Since hiding under a banquet table and clamping my hands over my ears wasn’t an option right now, I let my free hand draw subtle circles against my skirt.
Round and round and round and round. Until the jarring laughter wasn’t so jarring anymore.
“Duellists, prepare!” someone bellowed from across the hall, causing me to flinch and jerk my chin towards the sound. Around us, the chatter gradually faded as the crowd’s attention shifted to the centre of the room. All eyes were now on two young men, both standing poised and ready to fight on an empty banquet table. Each was dressed in lightweight athletic tunics, with narrow black masks partially covering their faces, and in each duellist’s right hand was a thin wooden practice sword. Despite the harmless nature of their blades, the sheer determination in their glares could’ve turned those swords into deadly weapons. And as a healer, I couldn’t help but scowl at the sight of it.
“Let the duel commence!” the same voice bellowed again. Then, with a swift beat of a drum, the duellists leapt into action, their weapons clashing together hard.
Suddenly, my feet were rooted to the ground. Raena’s hand tugged at mine, but I was too fixated on the scene to let her pull me away. It was a flurry of motion, a ballet of combat. The leftmost duellist, slightly shorter and with thick blonde curls, appeared to float across the table as he parried his attacker’s swings. The other, taller and with dark brown waves, struck fiercely and repeatedly, each swing meeting his opponent’s sword with a satisfying clack.
As their fight continued, the taller one seemed to grow frustrated. Even with my utter lack of combat experience, I could tell his attacks were becoming sloppy. They were too powered by emotion, and each swing became more and more careless.Seeming to sense this too, the shorter one moved to attack, then abruptly changed his stance, twisting his body to strike at the taller duellist’s knees. With a gasp from the crowd, the taller one was knocked backwards, his body thrown down and his head whacking against the wooden banquet table with an uncomfortably loud thud.
I winced. That didn’t sound like a healthy fall.
Worried murmurs rippled through the audience as the shorter one lowered his sword. He leaned down, clearly intending to help the other duellist up, but before he could, the fallen man kicked out his legs and sent his opponent flying. The crowd roared. It appeared the fight wasn’t over yet.
The taller duellist leapt to his feet, swaying a little before marching over to the shorter man who was now sprawled across the banquet table.
“Yield,” he spat, looming over his fallen opponent and pointing his sword towards his neck.
“You cheated,” the shorter one accused, “you were down and—”
“And now I’m up,” he cut him off, bringing the blade closer to his neck, “and now you’re on the table under my sword, so yield.”
The shorter man looked like he wanted to protest, but then something flashed across his face – recognition, perhaps? Both fighters were masked, but it’s possible he knew his voice. Before I had a chance to ponder more, the taller duellist swayed again.
‘Possible mindjarring,’a voice within me announced.‘The patient is irritated and has trouble balancing after a head injury.’
Memories of a past lesson on mindjarring flooded my thoughts. Our teacher, one of the village elders, had used a jar of pickled vegetables to mimic the mind within a skull. She violently shook the jar to show how a sudden impact can jostle the mind, causing head pain, dizziness, confusion, and insevere cases – a loss of consciousness. Failure to treat could lead to chronic head pain and irritability, and she’d insisted it was imperative that someone who is mindjarred should seek immediate medical attention.
Immediate medical attention.
My heart caught in my throat. So much for keeping my head down. Without hesitating, I shoved through the crowds.
“Naria, what are you doing? Come back!” Raena hissed, but it was too late to try to stop me. I’d already disappeared into the mob.
