“Of course. I’m on the mend, but speeding it up would be great.”
She sets her healing hand over my abdomen. Almost instantly, a calm floods my body, soothing dull aches and twinges of discomfort. “There … that should have sped things along nicely.”
“Thank you.”
“I did not realize how much I missed using my gift for others. So thank you.”
I remember the day in the sanctum, when the priestess settled her hand on my swollen belly and confirmed the baby inside was progressing well. “Could you tell me … I mean, she seems to be fine, but you never do know, do you?” There are plenty of stories of healthy babies who go to sleep in their cradles and never wake up. If there is something to be seen, perhaps the caster could fix it?
“The baby? Oh, certainly.” Wendeline sets a hand over Suri’s chest and closes her eyes again.
I watch her serene face as I did all those weeks ago.
Suddenly, her eyes flash open, shock in them.
“What is it? Is something wrong with her?”
“No.” She punctuates that with a headshake, schooling her expression. “She is perfectly fine. Healthy and strong. And perfect.” She peers down at Suri. “Tell me, when was she born?”
“Uh … it’s not even been a fortnight yet.”
“A fortnight,” she echoes, and her thoughts seem to drift.
“Why?”
“Oh, no reason, I was merely curious—”
The door flies open.
“What need do you have of them?” Corrin demands to know as Kazimir leads Mika and Lilou in, the lady’s maid on their heels.
“King’s orders,” he throws over his shoulder before disregarding her. “I know this one’s yours. What about this other one?”
“Priestess!” Mika exclaims, his face lighting up as he rushes forward. “I haven’t seen you in so long!”
“It has been a while.” Wendeline laughs, taking him in. “And how is that hand of yours?”
He holds it up and flexes it open and closed in proof. “Can’t even tell no more. I can climb trees again.”
“And trellises up the castle wall,” Corrin adds, accusation in her tone.
“That is wonderful news. Can I see it more closely for a moment?” Wendeline holds out her palm.
He readily agrees, slapping his hand into hers.
“See? It’s almost as good as new!”
“Almost. I’m here to make it even better. Now, I must add something to your hand, and you must remain very still, okay?”
“Add something?” His face scrunches up. “Like another finger?”
“What need is there for this when I’m not a tributary and they are far too young?” Corrin scowls at the dull mark on her hand, her words obscured by Suri’s shrill screams. Beside Corrin, Lilou sobs. Mika is the only one unbothered by the momentary burn, holding his hand out in front of him to admire his new brand. Wendeline placed it over his scar, partially hiding it.
“All mortals within the castle are to see the priestess for their test today, without exception,” Kazimir says with forced patience. “Take the kids back to sorting in the cellar. Gracen, the king seeks an audience with you.”
“Again?” I only just saw him this morning, not that I’m going to complain. But why? My heart races with a mixture of excitement and trepidation.
“Yes. Again.” He scowls at the baby in my arms. “Can you make it go back to sleep now?”
Corrin shakes her head at him. “Here. I will take her.”
“Please. Allow me,” a voice calls out.
As one, we turn, a round of exclamations escaping us as Sabrina approaches along the hall, smiling sheepishly. Gone is the finery she wore as the king’s tributary. Now, she dons a modest dove-gray dress—typical household garb. On her hand is the same symbol as ours, but it glows a brilliant silver, impossible to miss.
“When did they let you out?” I burst.
“Not long ago.” She collects a wailing Suri from my arms. “Shh …” She croons, rocking her. “It’s okay. I know what it’s like to be scared. I was so scared too.” She peers up at me with glossy blue eyes. “The king came to visit me in my cell. He said you spoke on my behalf.”
“I did, but …” I didn’t think it would matter. Atticus listened to me?
“Come on, the king does not wait for anyone,” Kazimir urges.
“I’ll get her settled again.” A tear rolls down her cheek. “Thank you, Gracen.”