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“Lady Arianna?”
Talon had hidden this from her. Every time he’d returned from battle, he’d escorted her back to the central estate. She’d always presumed he wanted to clean up and rest, but that hadn’t been the only reason.
How many of her own people could she have saved? How many times had she seen Talon distraught over the loss of his comrades?
Arianna fought back tears. She wouldn’t let herself cry. She’d made the decision to hide. She’d been the one afraid of responsibility and she didn’t get to cry for that.
Eoghan tried again, his voice softer. “Lady Arianna.”
“Who’s in charge here?”
He followed her gaze to a male writhing in pain. “It’s hard to tell. We lose more every day. The dem—” he cleared his throat. “The general is an excellent strategist, but even he can’t prevent casualties.”
Casualties.Casualties?This was torture. Death with no honor. She looked in their eyes and found their hope stripped bare. They’d accepted their fate and simply waited for death to carry their souls to a better land.
Arianna worked her jaw, feeling the tears threaten anew. Her people had done this. And Brónach had likely inflicted just as much pain on her country.
It had to stop.
All this had to stop.
Despite Eoghan’s warning, Arianna let the tent flap close and marched toward the nearest male. She rolled up her sleeves and knelt before his trembling body. Not so much as a blanket to keep him warm. Nothing beneath his head to prop it up.
Determination flared through her, and Arianna decided enough was enough. Let them discover who she really was. Let every Fae in all Alastríona know the legends were true.
The Divine was real, and she’d finally take up her name.
“What are you doing?” Eoghan knelt at her side, though he made no move to touch her.
“What I should have done a long time ago.”
The male looked at her with glazed eyes at first, then life snapped into him. He bared his teeth, snapping and growling so loud it drew the attention of those in the vicinity. Others began growling, a warning as they scented the magic wrapping around her arms.
Arianna gave him a sad smile. They’d all come from battle, some likely still fighting the ghosts brought on by fever and infection.
“Let me help you.” They were simple words. The same words she’d given Rion the night he’d entered their cabin broken and bleeding.
Exhausted, the male settled back and closed his eyes, content to accept whatever fate dealt him next.
Arianna pulled away the old bandages, revealing infected flesh that had Eoghan turning away. But Arianna wouldn’t allow herself to turn. She placed one hand over the pus-filled wound and let the warmth of her magic flow from her fingertips. The male hissed and thrashed, but one look from Arianna had Eoghan holding him down while she worked.
The infection crawled out of his skin like a living creature, dripping down his arm and onto the bare ground. His muscles reattached at the wrist and elbow and his once red and inflamed skin settled back to a normal, tan color.
Eoghan released the male and Arianna sat back on her heels. The male sat up slowly and examined his arm, rubbing at the place where an open wound had been just moments before.
His gaze rose. “You…” He took an uncertain breath. His eyes shone with unshed tears then he bowed his head. “My queen.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Arianna
Arianna healed and healed and healed, no longer caring how many or who knew about her abilities. After the first warrior, she’d healed every single Fae they couldn’t provide shelter for.
When she’d returned the following morning, those whom she’d healed were waiting, ready to assist with anything she needed. With their help, she’d isolated the worst cases and worked well into the night.
By the third morning, she had a crowd waiting for her outside the cabin. Arianna exited the door and tried not to blush. They murmured to one another, whispering legends and stories of old. Arianna marched toward the infirmary tents, offering shy smiles as she passed, but a familiar face stopped her in her tracks.
Zylah.
