Page 97 of Sworn to the Shadow Throne

“How much?” I pressed, because in my experience, the first answer was always the polite one. The real one came when you pushed.

They looked at each other, and I recognized the silent calculation of how honest to be. Then Reina answered, “Do not risk yourself. None of us want that.”

For a moment, I simply waited for the rest of the sentence. The part that explained the conditions of my servitude. But it didn’t come.

I didn’t know what to make of that. I distrusted kindness instinctively at this point.

“Your Majesty,” I said tentatively, “I need to place my hands under your tunic. Is that okay?” It didn’t feel right to do this without telling him what was happening. He might’ve been insensate, but it was possible he was aware of what was happening to him.

“He hasn’t spoken in two days,” Reina said softly, now even closer. “Do it.”

There was only one reason they’d trust me this much—Owain.

The king lacked Owain’s imposing size but accidentally injuring him could come down on my head. “Camrick, can you help turn him onto his side?”

He didn’t hesitate. He seized Berian’s hip and shoulder and pushed.

“I’m going to pass out from this,” I said, lifting the king’s tunic. I placed my palms on either side of his waist and bared my teeth in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “So I hope you two have a plan to get me out of here before I’m discovered sleeping with the king. Don’t want the queen to chop off my head.”

Camrick snorted. “It’s becoming ever-clearer why he likes you.”

I did not need to hear that. “Just…don’t leave me at the foot of his bed like a dog or something, please.”

I didn’t like the idea of leaving myself completely vulnerable with people I didn’t know, but I couldn’t bring myself to believe that Owain would set me up to be abused in his own home.

I reached for the magic waiting near my heart. Well-rested, it came eagerly and with more abundance than I’d felt in ages. Each thread slipped past flesh without resistance, descending into the hidden spaces where the worst damage lay.

Some damage could be excised, while some had to be endured.

Scars weren’t inherently a bad thing. They were armor on the outside and fortifications on the inside. But a house riddled with stone blocks inside made no space for living. I answered each stubborn scar with an impossibly precise knife made of tiny pulses of flesh-rending magic.

Afraid to undo too much damage at once, I left some behind, focusing instead on coaxing life back through starved vessels. Sweat gathered at my spine as I drained myself so that he might live. Hours seemed to pass inside that narrow focus.

Slowly, my magic faded, each thread demanding a higher price than the last. Spots danced in my vision when I heard Camrick say something about me in an uneasy tone. But I didn’t worry until I heard the dimming sound of shuffling of slippers on stone—Reina, walking away.

Didn’t matter. I had to finish this. The king was teetering in the space between life and death, and it was my job to drag him back into the light. I sagged, breath unsteady, shaking as I held the final threads in place a moment longer, ensuring the repairs would endure once my magic withdrew.

Hands braced my shoulders, holding me upright. Camrick’s? Too big to be Reina’s.

The the king took a deep breath and shifted on his own.

My work.

I’d helped him already.

Reina gasped and said softly, “Gods preserve us.”

Just another small push…

The scent of deep woods and dark tea drifted through my senses. Warmth brushed against the remnants of my magic just before everything faded to a dim haze. I’d fallen asleep—no other explanation.

Of course, I thought dimly. If I’m going to conjure a hallucination, it would smell like him.

I tried to shove the scent away but failed to do any good. It was too strong.

An arm—no, two—slid under my shoulders and knees. Everything tilted, and my head lolled against something firm. His chest was warm even through the layers of my dress, solid and unyielding beneath my cheek. My exhausted mind listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and relaxed into it.

“You always overreach,” a deep voice murmured above me, more affectionate than chiding. The vibration of it traveled through his chest and into my cheek.