Frost Bound (Entangled with Trickery #1)

Neve

Chapter Sixteen

Neve

By the time he’d gotten himself calmed down, everyone had settled into the spacious living quarters. A fire roared in the fireplace, taking up almost the entire length of the wall to his right. The human stood there in her damp dress with her back to the fire. He quickly glanced away, not willing to stare at her any longer than necessary.

A copper bathtub sat in the corner near the hearth, with Olwen pumping water into it from the spout. Neve nodded to his friend and stepped inside, closing the door to the barn. To his left, three sets of rustic bunkbeds created an open-ended square that faced the fireplace. Flyka sat on the middle-bottom bed, cutting some of her trousers away from the gash with methodical strokes as Eyri unpacked some of the medical supplies.

Neve kicked off his dirty boots and went to them. He knelt beside Flyka and took the blade from her shaking fingers. The stubborn female would never admit when she needed help. She grimaced at him but didn’t try to take it back as he cut away the leather and picked threads from her long cut.

“You need stitches,” he muttered.

Flyka pursed her lips. “But not from you. You’re worse with a needle than Olwen.”

“Hey,” Olwen groused from his corner as he continued to pump hot water into the tub. “I’m a warrior, not a seamstress.”

“That we can agree on,” Flyka muttered.

Eyri lifted the needle and stared at the tip. “I read an article about a new way to stitch…”

“No,” all three of them chorused at the same time.

While his cousin was a brilliant scribe and erudite, he was not a healer. They’d all been on the trial end of his experiments in the past and it never ended quite right.

“I can help,” the princess interjected softly.

Neve looked to her. She clasped her hands in front of her and rocked back on her heels, looking a little sheepish.

“I’m good with a needle.”

“What would a princess know of stitching wounds?” Neve retorted.

The sheepish look dropped from her face, replaced with determination and a touch of contempt. “What do you think princesses do all day? We stitch .” She tossed her wet golden-red hair over her shoulder. “What’s the difference between skin and fabric? It will close the same.”

She walked to the washtub and dunked her hands into the water. The saloes yanked her hands back and stared down at the water, then up to Olwen. “It’s hot.”

“Is that a question?” Olwen drawled, scratching at the shaved side of his head.

“How?”

“Underground hot springs.”

“Amazing,” she whispered, before pushing her sleeves up and scrubbing her hands up to her elbows. “Do you have a bowl and clean rags?”

Olwen handed them to her wordlessly. The princess filled the small bowl with water and strode across the room, rags in hand. She stood before Flyka, pointedly ignoring Neve.

It rankled, and he didn’t know why.

“With your permission, I’ll clean and stitch this in no time.”

Flyka stared at the princess and gestured to her leg. “You can’t do any worse than anyone else.”

The princess knelt on the floor, despite the mud from Flyka’s boots. She pulled off her emerald ring and tucked it into the pocket of her dress. She dunked the rag into the warm water and began dabbing Flyka’s wound, cleaning it with sure but gentle strokes.

“Humans have red blood, not silver,” the human commented, glancing at Flyka. “I wonder why that is.”

“How the creator designed us, I supposed,” Flyka muttered.

Neve leaned a shoulder against the bedpost as Eyri handed the human the threaded needle.

“Thank you, my lord,” the princess murmured. She lifted her arm and coughed into her elbow, glancing up once more at Flyka.

“No backing out now,” the Haunt murmured, a taunt in her voice.

“Do you have something for the pain?”

Flyka held up a wooden flask and took a deep pull. “I’ll be fine.”

“Here we go,” the valles muttered. She didn’t hesitate as she held Flyka’s skin together and began to close the cut. Neve watched as she made small, concise stitches, never wavering. He looked to Flyka, whose jaw was clenched. She breathed heavily, with short pants.

“This part will hurt,” the princess murmured. “It’s much deeper here.”

The first stitch, Flyka paled, the second she wavered, the third she passed out, slumping against the mattress.

“Finally,” the princess breathed, some of the tension in her shoulders easing. She focused on her work but addressed Eyri. “My lord, do you have honey or something like that for infection?”

“I do.” He pulled a small, stoppered bottle from their emergency kit that they kept at all their safe houses and handed it over to the valles with a bright smile. Why the devil was he looking at her like that? “Thank you for your help, my lady.”

“It’s nothing. I’m the reason she was hurt in the first place. She was protecting me.” There was heaviness to her voice that Neve didn’t like. He rubbed his lower heart, and then brushed the emotion away. Her feelings were not his concern.

The group fell into silence as she worked. A sigh escaped the princess as she tied the last knot and then carefully slathered the healing tincture over the gash. Eyri handed her the clean strips of linen, and she wrapped it around Flyka’s leg before tying it off.

She sat back on her heels and exhaled slowly. “All done. Now we just need to get her into bed.”

“I need you to move back first, my lady,” Neve said gruffly.

She used the bunk to pull herself to her feet and edged out of the way.

Neve and Eyri arranged Flyka until she was situated on the bed. He stiffened when the princess edged herself between himself and Eyri, leaning down to fluff the pillow. Ginger and amber with a hint of sweetness teased his nose once again, and he held his breath. He caught Eyri’s meaningful look and scowled. His cousin was going soft for the little saloes , and they’d only just met three days ago.

He eyed the valles as she brushed Flyka’s hair from her face, pulled off her boots, and then draped a blanket over the top of her.

“She won’t need that,” he commented. “Her body will keep her warm enough, especially when healing.”

“Blankets aren’t always for heat. They’re for comfort and safety sometimes. Right now, she probably feels vulnerable. A blanket will help that when she wakes.”

“Why do you care?”

She pursed her lips. “A little kindness never hurt anyone.” She pressed her hand below Flyka’s collarbone and to the right, her brows furrowing.

“What?” Neve huffed.

“Her heart rate is wrong.”

“Because we have two hearts, my lady,” Eyri supplied, brushing a long strand of wet hair from his face, his nose crinkling in mirth.

The princess gaped for a moment before snapping her mouth shut. “It seems I’ve learned many new things about Loriians today.” With that, she picked up the supplies from the floor, curtsied to Eyri, and retreated to the fire, where she murmured to Olwen in a low tone.

“Unexpected,” Eyri mumbled in Loriian.

“It’s odd that she did so well, no?” Neve replied, eyeing the little human. “By all accounts, she should not have been able to do that. Yet she stitched the wound like a seasoned battle healer. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Maybe there’s more to her than the crown? Sounds like someone I know.”

Neve wrinkled his nose. “Don’t compare me to that creature. My senses are telling me that she’s hiding something.”

Eyri arched a brow. “Maybe she is, but she’s just one little valles , no?”

One tiny little female. Even so … he had a feeling she would wreak havoc on his life.