16

Cedric Raine

“She’s going to be fine.” The healer gets to his feet, looking exhausted. “Let her sleep for a while and then continue to feed her in small amounts throughout the day.”

Harriet shoots me an angry look before saying, “She refuses to eat small meals.”

I already know why that is; she doesn’t have to rub it in. My voice is hard as I tell Pat, “I’ll make sure she eats them. How much time will it take for her to heal?”

The older man runs his hands over his face, clearly drained from all the healing energy he just spent.

“I can’t say. The damage to her stomach lining is extensive. I could say weeks, and I could say months. I could even say years. It really depends on her. The constant stress isn’t helping. I wish she would come to me when she’s in pain so I can give her some healing tea, but the queen doesn’t like to share her problems. Harriet, I really think you need to keep a close eye on her. If you sense any discomfort, I’ll send one of my assistants with some herbs. Just make her a cup of tea with them. They’re anti-inflammatory. They should help her.”

“So, she’s going to remain sick for a long time?”

Healer Pat gives me a sharp look. “The queen is not sick, Your Majesty. She’s injured. All injuries need time to heal. If only she were allowed that.”

Another accusatory look toward me, and I snap. “Well, I didn’t shove the food down her throat.”

“You didn’t have to put her in a position where she felt forced to eat.” Pat frowns. “The wounds on her back are going to take some time, as well. I’m trying to draw the wolfsbane out of them, but it’s easier said than done. Can you give me a minute, Harriet?”

He waits for her to leave the room before turning to face me, disapproval written all over his face. “The queen’s body bears marks of abuse. Constant abuse over the years. I would not be surprised if the abuse started during her childhood. I don’t know what her family did to her, but she needs to heal. She’s too frail, and if her health doesn’t improve, she will not survive for much longer.”

My jaw tightens. “What’re you saying?”

He lets out an uneven breath. “The North has harsher living conditions than the Eastern Kingdom. She isn’t accustomed to such cold weather. She needs heat. She needs to be warm. Make sure she’s not exposed to the cold more than she has to be, and if you can, tell her to surround herself with things she likes. Sometimes the desire to live can do wonders for the healing process.”

“The desire to live?” I ask slowly, trying to comprehend what he’s saying.

“I’ve been in her room, Sire. I’ve talked to her. It is my opinion as her personal healer that the queen seems to be focused on surviving rather than living. She doesn’t consider the castle her home. Given the circumstances in which she arrived, I can understand that, but if you want her to live, then give her a reason to. Otherwise, you will be looking for another queen very soon.”

Having had his say, he leaves the room. I look at the unconscious figure on my bed, feeling a stab of guilt. It is followed by mild annoyance.

This woman is becoming more of a handful than I realized. If I had known she would cause me this much trouble, I wouldn’t have brought her here. Folding my arms across my chest, I sit near the fire, watching her. Her chest moves up and down in rhythmic breathing. Harriet has never raised her voice at me, but ever since I put her in charge of Leanna, she has become quite defiant. What is it about this woman that has my own people turning against me? Do they not remember that she is the enemy? So she’s had a tough life. Who hasn’t?

They all expect me to feel sorry for her. I don’t.

But as I watch her sleep, I’m reminded of the way she snapped at me. She tries hard to control her emotions, but she’s not as successful as she would like to be. Provoke her in the right way and she hisses like a little kitten who has not yet learned how to bite. That glitter of anger in her eyes is amusing. I want to see it again. Normally, she looks composed, restrained. It’s hard to read her. But if I push her enough, she does show her teeth, and my wolf likes it. For the first time, I find myself in agreement with it about her. She’s far more interesting when I manage to provoke her.

And it’s not like she’s completely without a spine. She was willing to face off against me to protect those maids of hers. I didn’t agree with her, but she did have a point that they were her servants to punish as she saw fit. I’m not about to interfere in the running of this place. It is the queen’s duty to oversee the castle’s internal affairs.

But Harriet and the healer want me to coddle Leanna. I’m not going to do it. If they want to coddle her, they can go ahead, but I have better things to do with my time. She’s a grown woman. She should know how to look after herself.

“Eat a damn meal if the healer tells you to,” I mutter to myself. “How hard is it to follow instructions?”

Of course, she was following instructions. Mine.

I try not to think about that.

I recall the scars on her back that I saw last night. I know she’s not of royal blood. Even if she were an illegitimate daughter, she would have the same mark on her wrist as those of royal blood. She doesn’t, so the fact that she has the same features as the princess is simply a coincidence. But how did Princess Vivian discover her existence? And why has Leanna been brutalized like this?

As the princess’s substitute, she should have been looked after. The new clothes she chose today in front of me today were tasteful, choices I would expect from an actual princess. Her manner of speaking and the way she carries herself have not escaped me. No one could ever say that she is not Princess Vivian.

Leanna.

Harriet calls her by her true name. I saw the way my mate’s eyes softened when Harriet used it. For a moment, she looked soft and approachable. She looked happy. Did I ever see her happy before then? Even when she sits alone in the garden, she never smiles. She looks like she’s carrying the burden of the world on her shoulders.

“I don’t know what I like. Nobody’s ever asked me before.”

What kind of statement is that? Everybody has something they like.

“Like you and the other inhabitants of this castle, she too believed that I needed to know my place.”

If Princess Vivian were not dead, I would kill the woman myself.

The thought startles me. If the princess were alive, she would be the one I’d be mated to. But the idea of being linked to that woman, with her cold eyes and haughty airs, makes me shudder. If it had been her who had been harassed by the maids here, she would have ordered them to be executed. I can believe that about her. But my fated mate has a soft heart.

“It won’t serve you here, though. The Northern Wolves don’t respond well to kindness,” I say quietly into the silent room.

The door opens, and Harriet enters. She’s carrying a small packet in her hand.

“What’s that?” I ask.

“Herbal tea. Healer Pat gave it to me.”

She stares at me expectantly, and I give her an irritated look. “What now?”

Turning frosty, she asks, “Shall I take the queen back to her chambers so that you can sleep peacefully?”

I bristle at her tone. “No, you shall fucking not.”

Her eyebrows shoot up at my words, and I look away, refusing to feel guilty for my vulgar language.

Harriet, however, is in a mood that is rare for her. “Then, where will Your Majesty sleep?”

“On my damn bed,” I say irritably.

She lowers one brow. “Are you sure you will be comfortable there?”

“Harriet!” I snarl. “I get it. Now, lay off me.”