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The Gilded Cage (The Prison Healer #2)(50)

Author:Lynette Noni

“Much better,” Kiva said. “The aloeweed gel brought the inflammation down faster than I expected.”

“The poppymilk probably helped, too,” Rhess said with a knowing wink.

Kiva grinned. “I slept like the dead that night. Not sure if that was wise after a head wound.”

“If memory serves, I did tell you to wake regularly,” Rhess said dryly. She then asked, “Other than the swelling, have you been feeling well enough? No slurring, numbness, coordination concerns? Drowsiness, vomiting, headaches? Anything like that?”

Admittedly, Kiva had experienced most of those things in the last two days, but all of them she attributed to training with Caldon, so she shook her head.

“You were limping when you walked over here,” Rhess observed in a leading statement.

“I’ve recently started a new fitness regime,” Kiva said, moderating her voice to keep from revealing how she felt about it. Judging by the mirth in Rhess’s eyes, she wasn’t successful.

“Ah,” the healer said. “So just your standard muscle aches and pains?”

“If by ‘standard,’ you mean ‘I’m dying,’ then sure.”

Rhess snickered. “I can give you something to help, if you want?”

“That would be appreciated.”

Kiva expected the healer to say she’d have a muscle relaxant sent to the palace, but Rhess reached into her pocket and withdrew a small jar filled with a pale orange powder.

Seeing the look Kiva sent her, Rhess explained, “I keep what feels like a small infirmary on me at all times. Be ready for anything, I say.” She handed over the jar. “Mix a pinch of that into your tea right before bed, and then again when you wake up. You’ll feel better in no time.”

Kiva removed the stopper and gave it a sniff. “Buttercress, ginger-weed, halo pods, and —” She took another sniff. “Lurmeric?”

“Well done,” Rhess said approvingly. “I heard you have some healing experience.”

“Nothing compared to what you do here,” Kiva said, nervously fiddling with the sleeve of her sweater and making sure it covered her scar.

“Silverthorn is in a league of its own, I’ll grant you that,” Rhessinda agreed, glancing out across the grounds with an awe that Kiva understood deep in her soul. Rhess, however, was already living the dream that Kiva could only wish might one day find her.

“Thanks for coming all the way up here,” the healer went on to say. “I wanted to check in after everything that happened the other night. Being abducted — that must have been frightening.”

“I was unconscious for most of it,” Kiva said, sticking to her lie. “Have you visited Caldon? His wound was worse than mine.”

Rhess waited until two young healers walked past and continued deeper into the sanctuary before saying, “From what I hear, the prince has suffered much more grievous injuries in the past. He’ll send for someone if he’s worried.”

Unable to help herself, Kiva said, “People usually jump at the chance to spend time with him.” Pointedly, she added, “He’s very handsome.”

Rhess scrunched up her nose. “He certainly seems to think so.”

Kiva laughed, surprised — and delighted — by the healer’s candor. “Most women fall at his feet.”

“I am not most women.”

Kiva was beginning to realize that. And respect it. “So are you avoiding him on principle because he flirted with you?”

“I’m not avoiding him,” Rhessinda stated. “I just don’t want to see him.” When Kiva’s lips twitched, Rhess’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t judge — you’re the one who stabbed him. If that doesn’t send a message, I don’t know what does.”

Kiva winced. “In my defense, I thought he was someone else.”

A beat of silence passed, and then suddenly Rhess was laughing. A moment later, Kiva joined her.

“I can’t believe you stabbed a prince!” the healer exclaimed, holding her stomach.

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” Kiva said, though her voice rumbled with lingering humor. “You’re a healer. Where’s your sense of compassion?”

“You’re not the first person to ask me that,” Rhess said, still chuckling. “I must have missed the day they taught about bedside manner.”

Kiva shook her head with amusement, feeling a growing connection to the healer. Their kinship seemed effortless — something that, if she’d still been at Zalindov, she would have avoided at all costs. But she wasn’t at Zalindov now. She didn’t have to push people away to save herself the pain that came with their death. That wasn’t her life anymore.

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