Annora smiled from across the table. “A strong name.”
“He’ll need to be strong with a mother like Iris,” Evelina said with a small laugh.
They closed the meeting, slowly peeling off. Evelina stayedbehind a little longer, still deep in her thoughts.
“Queen Evelina,” Lila said breathlessly, bursting into the throne room. “A human was found at the entrance of the palace, passed out. I think he’s the same one who delivered your painting earlier. He’s been taken to the infirmary.”
Evelina shot to her feet. Her heart raced as Lila walked with her to the old infirmary. It was far less busy since the war ended, but still had its uses. She often had weekly tea there with Gloriana.
“I just called for Gloriana,” Lila said as they approached the room.
“No need.” Evelina pushed the door open. “I’ll call on her if I need her assistance.”
Lila bowed her head and Evelina thanked her, closing the door behind her.
Lawrence was lying on a cot, his brows drawn together and tears brimming in his bruised eyes. His bottom lip was swollen and cut, and he was clutching his side.
“What happened?” she gasped.
He flinched, as if the sound of her voice was too loud, even though she was speaking softly. “It’ll heal.” His throat was scratchy and his words came out as more of a groan. “I just need a moment.”
He clearly neededmorethan a moment to rest.
“This needs to be taken care of,” she said firmly, her voice in full healer mode. “A bandage to stop the bleeding, possibly even a few stitches.”
Evelina didn’t give him time to answer. She made quick work of rummaging around the shelves and grabbing a handful of different vials. They clinked together as she dumped them onto the worktable. She slid over a small granite bowl and measured out a teaspoon of feverfew, half a tablespoon of goldenseal, and a full tablespoon of withania. She ground them together until they were a powder, feeling an ache deep in her bones. She had almost forgotten how much she loved to do this.
“Still with me?” She glanced over her shoulder.
He nodded, silently watching her. “How do you know how to do this?”
“I learned when I was younger,” she answered with a shrug. She turned around to dump the powder into a tub of linndula root—more of a slime than a root—and mixed it into the cleansing salve. “I’ll need you to roll onto your side.” She walked over with her hands full of supplies. “And I’m afraid we’ll need to get you a new shirt.”
He shot her a look, his cheeks reddening.
“I’ll be quick,” she promised. “I just need to make sure the salve sits undisturbed for a few minutes before we cover it.”
Lawrence nodded and carefully peeled off his shirt. He hissed as he stretched his arms over his head, but was able to get it off and roll onto his side.
Evelina was swift—clinical. Her hands moved as if she still did this every day. Just looking at him, she could tell he had a fever, which meant she needed to work quickly.
“This might sting at first, but it should lessen the pain and help break your fever.” She smeared a spoonful onto the gash on his side as an odd sense of nostalgia washed over her. The last time she’d done this…
The memory of Alpha Fleet slammed into her so hard she had to take several deep breaths. Of doing this for Daimon after thinking she had lost him during a battle with the rebels.
Lawrence looked up at her, his eyes vulnerable and open. “Thank you,” he whispered. “For helping me.”
She frowned, wishing more than anything that he didn’t have to live in such fear.
“Did this happen while you were delivering the painting?” she whispered.
He remained silent, which was answer enough. She continued rubbing in the salve and he flinched as she touched the open wound.
“Tell me something,” she said. When his eyes flared withfear, she explained, “To distract you from what we’re doing.” She had used this with countless soldiers and refugees, finding that if they focused on something else, it would help with the pain. She didn’t expect much, but to her surprise, Lawrence sat up. He winced as she stitched up his wound.
“I don’t have anything to share, really. My parents died when I was fifteen.” His gaze fell. “I’ve been alone ever since.”
“Mine died long ago,” Evelina whispered. “The pain of losing someone you love never truly lessens.”
