Page 107 of Feralheart

She fumbled with the laces. After watching her struggle, I brushed her hands aside and did it myself.

Soaked through, the leather had swollen. I worked it carefully, and her leg tensed when I had to tug.

“Sorry,” I said.

“Just get it over with.”

Her sharp inhale when the boot finally came free told me exactly how much it hurt.

The bandage underneath was equally wet. I unwound it slowly, revealing the burn beneath. Blistered. Angry red around the edges. A wound that would fester if left untreated.

“This is from the fire maze,” I said.

“Obviously.”

“You walked through the fortress and wherever else you’ve been on this.”

“I didn’t have a choice.”

I opened the tin. The salve inside was the good kind, the blend our highest-ranked healers made. They’d infused it with a spell that would make a wound heal in half its usual time.

“This is going to hurt,” I said.

“Everything hurts.”

I scooped salve onto my fingers and smoothed it over the burn, working as gently as I could. She hissed, her fingers digging into my shoulders.

“Breathe,” I said.

“I am breathing.”

“You’re not.”

She exhaled shakily. Her grip on my shoulders loosened but didn’t let go.

I worked the salve into the edges of the burn, and she trembled under my hands.

I finished treating the wound and wrapped a fresh bandage around her foot, the kind that would hold through a day of flying.

When I finished, I didn’t step back or straighten.

“There,” I said, looking up at her through my lashes. “Better?”

She flexed her foot and nodded. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

I gently slid her foot back into her boot. “These boots are ruined. You’ll need new for the race.”

“I’ll be sure to order them from the bootmaker, Sire.”

Her sarcasm came through clear in her voice.

“Good,” I said. “Decent equipment will make all the difference.”

Her head cocked, and sadness touched her face before she smoothed it. “What makes you think commons have access to anything decent?”

“You should.”