Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Sylvi
My eyes were so swollen from crying angry tears, I didn’t even recognize myself when I splashed water on my face in the washroom.
I stared into the mirror above the basin and swore to every god in the northern realms. How could they have allowed this atrocity?
Jack was one of their blessed. He was noble, loyal. He never meant to harm an innocent.
And the queen? Jack was her only son. If she was willing—capable—of doing that to her flesh and blood, what wouldn’t she do to the rest of us? That was her message, wasn’t it? Her way of driving fear into the hearts of every Isenheimer: no one was safe from her wrath, not even their future king.
I rushed back out into my bedroom, hoping splashing cold water on my face had helped anchor my mind, but it did nothing. My thoughts kept folding in on themselves, collapsing on top of me with the memory of each lash.
I paced again, so fiercely I nearly set the rug’s fibers aflame.
Fifty lashes.
I recounted every single one. Over and over. Reheard every scream. Rewatched the blood stain the ground until it pooled like spilled wine across stone. Until there was only silence.
Panic swirled in my chest. I had no idea what happened to Jack after Ravin took his body. Not knowing if he breathed, if his heart still beat, gnawed at my insides. I stormed across the room for what felt like the thousandth time and hurled myself at the door, yanking the handle.
Still locked. As it had been since the moment they’d marched me into this chamber-turned-cell.
“Open the door!” I shouted, fists slamming against it. “I know you hear me!”
Bootsteps shuffled outside and a smug voice answered through the thick wood, “We’ve told you already. Orders were clear. You’re to remain inside until first light.”
“Well, I order you to open the door. I’m your fucking captain!”
“Former captain,” a second guard chimed in, cruel amusement curling in his tone. “Stripped of rank by the queen. Varik is captain now.”
The words landed like a blow. I stumbled back, breath catching hard in my throat.
Former.
All those years spent clawing my way up the ranks, fighting for every scrap of respect. All for nothing. One mistake—one perceived mistake—and my world had unraveled like thread pulled from a tapestry.
Fickle. That’s what it was. Respect built on politics and pretense; not on loyalty, not merit.
I turned from the door, jaw tight, fury splintering through my marrow. The urge to scream, to tear down these godsdamned walls made something feral inside me snap. My fingertips burned as if claws wanted to dig themselves out from inside me.
A soft knock startled me, one too soft for it to be the guards. The door creaked open, and two females entered, cloaked in the deep blue robes of the royal infirmary, their hoods shadowing their faces. One carried a satchel of tinctures, the other a folded cloth.
“Don’t bother,” I said, turning away. “Whatever orders the queen gave, I don’t need your help. My injuries are healed.” I crossed the room and stopped beside the hearth, one hand braced on the mantle, the other clenched at my side. “I’m fine,” I said harshly, though my voice cracked.
My injuries weren’t the type they could heal with tonics or salves.
“We’re not here to examine you,” one of them said in a hushed whisper. “We’re here to get you out.”
I froze. “Pardon?”
The second healer dropped the satchel onto the table and pulled back her hood. She was a junior healer from the palace infirmary, someone I’d seen shadowing Maelis before. “The prince is asking for you,” she said. “Maelis sent us to help sneak you out so you can see him.”
Hope slammed into my ribs so hard I forgot to breathe. New tears blurred my vision, and I slapped a hand over my mouth to silence the sobs that broke loose. The younger healer stepped forward and clasped my trembling hands in hers. “The worst is over, miss. He’s going to be okay.”
“Thank you for your kindness,” I said, wiping at my tears, my wet gaze bouncing between the two of them. “I’m sorry for being so harsh.”
“It’s okay. We understand you’ve been through a lot.”
“Exactly how are you going to sneak me out?”
The older female with silver at her temples stepped forward and pulled another healer’s robe from beneath her cloak.
“You’ll put this on. I will walk you past the guards as Sascha,” she said, glancing at the younger healer.
“She will remain here until you return. But we must move quickly before the next guard rotation.”
“How is he really?” I whispered, heart lurching as I rushed to drape the cloak over myself.
Sascha barely met my gaze, and I knew she was about to soften the truth. “The collar suppressed his magic for too long. He’s healing now, but…it’s slow. Painful.”
I swallowed hard, my hands shaking as I struggled to clasp the buckle over my chest. The smoke and herbs scent of the infirmary wafted up my nose as I finally managed to secure the cloak around me. “I’m ready,” I said, needing to end this torture. “Take me to him.”
Sascha quickly climbed into my bed, her frame hidden beneath thick quilts.
She clutched one of my pillows tight to her chest and angled her body away from the door just as instructed.
Her chest rose and fell in slow, measured breaths in a very convincing sleeping act.
Thankfully, she had long black hair like mine, and from the back, it would be difficult to tell us apart.
“You must remain like this until we return,” the older healer said to her. “We can’t have you making any sounds that might make those guards curious to check on you, you understand?”
“Yes, Mistress Dahna,” Sascha replied, then looked at me. “Good luck, Captain.”
My lips parted to correct her, but my heart couldn’t bear to utter the words. Not yet at least. “Thank you for doing this.”
She simply smiled.
Mistress Dahna handed me Sascha’s satchel, and I pulled my hood lower as we walked to the entrance. She knocked once. “It’s Mistress Dahna. Our job is done here.”
The door creaked open, and the guards allowed us to step into the corridor. The healer bowed her head slightly, feigning the demure obedience of her station. “She’s resting. We administered a sleeping tonic laced with ashwinter. She’ll be out for hours.”
My heart thundered. I had to keep my head lowered, but I could feel their heavy gazes scrutinizing us. One of the guards stepped closer and peered past Dahna into the room, where we’d left the fire burning low. Sascha’s body would’ve been visible from the door.
“Finally,” he muttered. “Someone found a way to shut her up.”
A low chuckle rumbled from his companion. “If she’d screamed any louder at that door, I would’ve stuffed a boot in her mouth myself.”
Rage coiled in my chest like an angered serpent.
I finally recognized those voices. Varik’s friends—bootlickers with brittle spines and vicious tongues.
It took every ounce of restraint to keep my lips shut.
The healer didn’t bother offering a reply.
She simply grabbed my arm and ushered me down the hall with silent urgency.
We moved like ghosts, quick and fluid through the palace corridors, ducking into side halls and unused passageways when footsteps echoed too close. I kept my head bowed and my hood low.
No one noticed us.
No one cared to. After all, we were nothing but two harmless palace healers on our way back to the infirmary.
After a myriad of turns and what felt like ten thousand steps down to the sublevel floor of the palace, I was finally able to pull back the hood and see the infirmary wing looming ahead, its arched threshold aglow with candlelight. The scent of a crackling hearth and crushed herbs clung to the air.
I puffed a long, shaky breath as we paused at the entrance.
“He’s awake, but weak. Prepare yourself,” Mistress Dahna said.
I nodded, but I was nowhere near ready. Not for this.
She stepped ahead to alert Maelis, while I lingered just inside the doorway, my boots rooted to the stone floor as I took in the sight before me.
Jack sat upright on the edge of a low infirmary table, his back to me, the muscles across his shoulder blades trembling.
I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. The wounds…
Gods. The ruin of his back. Red gashes slashed across his skin as if he’d been mauled by a hrímdreki.
Some wounds still wept blood while others oozed slowly beneath a thin layer of medicinal paste.
Scabs had already begun to form in some areas, pink and angry.
It was a battlefield carved into his flesh.
I had endured the screams, watched as the scourgemaster cut into his back fifty godsdammned times. But nothing, nothing, could’ve prepared me for the sight of him broken like this.
I’d caused this. Me.
I wanted to look away from the horror, but I couldn’t. I wouldn’t cower from the damage I helped inflict upon him.
Ravin, who had been quietly speaking to Jack, raised his gaze when he noticed I was standing there, staring at our best friend as if I was staring at his corpse. Silent tears trickled down my face. Ravin shook his head slowly, his hardened eyes warning me to keep my emotions in check. Don’t break…
He was right. This was not what Jack needed right now.
Wiping at my face with the cloak, I took two calming breaths.
As if sensing me, Jack turned his head, his hair damp with sweat, the silvery strands clinging to his neck. His hands rested on his thighs, fingers curling tightly.
His eyes, though rimmed red and fatigued, widened when he found mine. He blinked as if unsure I was real. “Sylvi?” he rasped.
My legs moved on instinct, closing the space between us until I came around the table and nearly dropped to my knees in front of him. I cupped his cheek, careful not to touch him too harshly. “My Gods,” I whispered. “Jack…”
His hand shook as he raised it and brushed my fingers.
I took it and enfolded it in both of mine, pressing it to my lips. “I’m here,” I choked. “I’m here now.”