“Calm yourself, princess, sit,” Byron requested reassuringly, gesturing to the chair beside Reyland’s bed.
Marian moved hesitantly to the chair Dorien, then Dax, had used.
She sat upright, her hands on her thighs, facing the older shifter.
Byron moved Corien to another seat, beside the door.
Once seated, Corien closed his eyes; his face was still, pale, and drawn.
Without thinking, Marian reached for and held Reyland’s hand.
Byron turned back to her. He placed his hands in his white coat pockets.
“Do you remember how you felt at the Noble heir’s rejection?” he asked calmly.
Marian’s brows went up as she stared at the doctor.
Her lips pressed together.
“Bear with me, princess. Do you?” he asked gently.
“Yes,” Marian replied tersely.
“It was a sharp pain. It filled your body, your mind, correct?” the doctor continued pa
