Chapter Eleven #3
“Capture him.” Solange’s voice cut through the stillness. She knelt beside her brother, now surrounded by healers and green-robed velari. “Take him to the hold for observation.”
Yuriel turned to his bonded, waiting for her confirmation before he commanded the others to carry on. The knights swept forward, dragging Varen away while the healers rushed Nicolas to the infirmary.
Only then, as the cathedral fell silent and her father disappeared from view, did Aurelie clutch her stomach. She barely made it to the pews before heaving its contents onto the floor.
“Better?” Yuriel stood nearby, his face drawn. His hand moved to his own stomach, likely feeling the echo of her turmoil.
Aurelie nodded. “Thank you for saving them. I—”
“Take her away until I figure out what to do with her.” The king’s voice cracked through the silence like a lash, his steely eyes on Aurelie. “She just took the sword hand of one of Rhovar’s best knights.”
Aurelie’s throat burned, fear and anger simmering. But what excuse could she give them? She would have killed Nicolas if that’s what it took to get him away from Varen.
Still, she couldn’t let them take her. She had to know if what she’d seen was real. Had to know what kind of monster her father was turning into before anyone else discovered it.
Two knights drew toward her. Aurelie searched immediately for an exit. Her clothing was lighter than their armor. She’d be faster …
Yuriel stepped forward, his wings unfurling to block her yet again.
“I understand your anger, but if the state of Rhovar is as fragile as I’ve been led to believe, then you cannot afford to lose another knight.
And I will not be separated from my bonded.
I ask that you offer her grace. The mind cannot think clearly when two souls are being bound. ”
There was a darkness in his voice. Steel that challenged even the king, whose eyes blazed as he looked upon Yuriel.
The angel, however, shifted his focus to where Ilaria sat curled in pain, her trembling hands hovering near her bloodied, tear-soaked cheeks without daring to touch them.
Queen Sybil cradled her daughter in her lap, rocking her softly as Ilaria whimpered.
It was a brutal wound, half her lip sagging and disfigured, with four cuts so deep they were guaranteed to leave a horrendous scar.
Aurelie’s heart twisted. If Azriel were well enough, he might have been able to heal her. But as he was …
Yuri took a step toward Ilaria. “May I?”
King Edric said nothing, yet he tracked the angel’s every move, body rigid as Yuri crouched before Ilaria.
The princess flinched, biting back a cry as his fingers settled against her cheek.
A faint glow gathered around his hands, and the awful red cuts faded to an angry pink, the edges of the wound knitting together in imperfect seams that, while far from flawless, at least stopped the bleeding.
Yuriel’s forehead pinched as he worked, beads of sweat forming from what seemed a great effort.
Slowly, the worst of Ilaria’s swelling diminished, and though she’d still need a healer and several strong salves, it seemed from her quieted whimpering that the worst of the pain had ebbed.
“There.” He exhaled deeply, sitting back on his heels, and Aurelie felt the weight of his weariness as if it were sinking into her own bones. “I’m sorry, but that’s the best I can do.”
With trembling fingers, Ilaria touched her cheek. Relief softened her expression, fresh tears gathering in her eyes.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice catching on a sob.
King Edric pulled her close, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. Then his piercing gaze shifted to Yuriel, tension lacing his voice. “You’re a Soldier, aren’t you? I had no idea you could heal.”
Yuriel’s expression gave nothing. “Next to a true Guardian, my healing is of little worth.”
“What of the injured knight? Can you help him, too?”
The angel glanced toward the spot where Nicolas’s blood soaked the floor, his expression tight. “I’m not skilled enough to handle such a wound.”
“Whatever your skill, it’s appreciated.” Sybil took his hand. Yuriel startled, and Aurelie felt his discomfort flood through her.
“Had the captain been acting strangely?” he asked abruptly, voice firm as he pulled his hand back.
“There were no signs that he was turning into a demon, if that’s what you’re asking,” Aurelie spat.
Ilaria recoiled at the sharpness of her tone, and Sybil’s hands moved to steady her daughter.
“Perhaps last night’s attack got to him,” the queen suggested. “It may have stirred up old memories.”
“We’ll need to discern what prompted his change,” Yuriel said. “In the meantime, I’ll see that Aurelie returns safely to her quarters.”
The king said nothing at first. His jaw flexed, tension radiating from his still frame, but even he wouldn’t dare challenge the Divine. “Very well. See that she doesn’t leave.”
Yuriel bowed his head, then turned. His hand was quick to find Aurelie’s arm, firm as he guided her away without a word.