Page 22

Moments later, Adry stepped into sight, the sunlight glittering in the strands of her red-blonde hair and glinting off the hilts of her swords. She took in the sight of their tea party, her grin widening. “May I join?”

Yes. Merrik clamped his mouth shut to stop himself from blurting out the word and instead looked at Kari. It was up to her if she wanted Adry to crash their sibling time.

Kari grinned and gestured at the table set for four. “There’s plenty. Which teacup do you want?”

Adry strolled closer, grabbed the second chair, and paused to take in the table. She set her chair by the spot set with the hyacinth teacup. After a moment, she reached for the tin with her favorite chocolate strawberry black tea. “Thank you for letting me crash your tea party. Now, what were you discussing when I joined?”

“Books.” Kari’s grin widened as she took the tin from Adry and began preparing her cup.

Merrik found his own smile growing, even as that painful feeling twisted his chest. He could picture a future like this all too easily. He and Adry, as boyfriend and girlfriend, having tea parties with his little sister. Perhaps with her little sister too.

Just friends. Like a sister. Merrik chanted the words in his head, even as his heart ached all the more.

Chapter

Ten

Merrik gritted his teeth as the nurse unwrapped the bandages around his left leg, a healer standing by to observe.

As his leg was revealed, Merrik forced himself not to look away for the first time since his crash. He took in the large scars, still pink and fresh, running the length of his ankle and, with a jolt in the pit of his stomach, the fact that part of his foot was missing, including his last two toes.

He only had three toes. Total.

For some reason, he’d been picturing this foot as whole beneath the bandages. He hadn’t known it, too, had been so mangled. That he’d suffered a loss on this foot as well. Sure, it was only two toes. Only the very top edge of his foot. But it was still another loss.

His vision tunneled, and he gripped the blankets, forcing himself to take deep, measured breaths.

He had known this would be hard. He’d known this foot and ankle had needed major reconstruction.

Grieve going forward. He would let himself absorb and grieve this reality, but he would keep moving forward as best he could. He might limp. He might have to crawl. But he would move forward.

The healer picked up Merrik’s foot, his magic seeping into the foot and ankle as he moved it, first one way, then another. “I am very pleased with the results of the surgery and the subsequent healing. You will likely find this leg is weak for some time, and it may never be as strong as it was before. But you will be able to walk on it again.”

Walk again. He had to cling to that hope, no matter how things looked now. He would walk again.

The nurse started unwrapping the bandages around the stump of his right leg.

He had to take several more deep breaths as he got his first look at the way his leg just ended several inches below his knee.

His head grew light again, a sense of disconnection filling him.

He didn’t know his own body, something one should be intimately familiar with. Yet in the days since his injury, he’d lost weight due to his lack of interest in eating and the toll of the injuries and subsequent healings. His collarbone jutted, and his wrists seemed smaller and fragile. Then there was the way both of his legs no longer felt like they belonged to him. He felt itchy within his own body, as if it no longer fit him.

“The shape looks good.” The healer nodded as he inspected Merrik’s stump. “You still have your knee, which will make learning to walk again easier. A representative from the AMPC’s Warrior Foundation will be arriving later today for your first fitting.”

Merrik swallowed, not sure if he wanted to laugh or sigh. His parents, Fieran’s parents, and Uncle Lance and Aunt Illyna had created the Warrior Foundation years ago to provide services to wounded warriors from all three Alliance Kingdoms. The foundation provided everything from counseling to prosthetics.

He wasn’t sure if it was irony or something else that his parents’ foundation was now needed for him.

“I heard you are expecting me.”

Merrik set aside the book Kari had loaned him—amazingly, it was the signed copy of the latest Star Forrest novel—and sat up straighter.

Aunt Illyna stood beside the open curtain, her light blonde hair flowing down her back, her pointed elven ears visible. She carried a large bag over one shoulder. For her left hand, she wore one of her prosthetics, one with wooden fingers that she could move with her magic.

Like Fieran’s parents, Uncle Lance and Aunt Illyna weren’t actually Merrik’s uncle and aunt by blood. But they’d been friends with his parents for decades, to the point that they’d started a business and bought an estate together.

“Are you the representative of the Foundation?” Merrik probably shouldn’t be so surprised. Aunt Illyna was one of the reasons they’d started the foundation. That, and Uncle Farrendel and Merrik’s dacha had both fought in the wars and knew the toll.