Page 78 of The Forgotten Prince

Gwendolyn struggled to move her lips, only to wet them, but she couldn’t. It felt as though she were still bound with twine. Even her tongue felt furry and constrained. Was she still covered in spriggan vines?

Gods. What was that terrible scent?

Pungent, woody, resinous…

Pine sap was oft used to disinfect wounds. Was this because someone was tending to her wounds? Gwendolyn’s body hurt.

So did her head.

Where was Málik?

She tried again to lift her lids, but couldn’t, so she settled for listening…

“She’s a fierce one,” said another voice, the conversation growing louder now—perhaps no longer concerned over waking her?

Male, this time.

“When she was a girl, scarcely able to lift a sword, she stole mine to drag it about the halls. Four she was when her father gave her a practice sword.”

Bryn?

This said with a smile. “Who would not covet your sword?”

Flirtation?

No hint of sarcasm.

Only mirth.

Esme?

Gwendolyn decided she must be dreaming. There could be no other explanation for this strange discourse.

Giggles. Now laughter.

“Stop, lout! We’ll wake her.”

Disapprovingly. “I’ve cleaned her wound,” said a third occupant of the room.

Lir?

“I found a bit of the claw still embedded in her flesh.”

Concern. “Is it out?”

“Of course,” said Lir. “I put it on the table if you wish to inspect it.”

Now, again, Esme. “Spriggan poison is like yew poison,” she explained. “That is what they used against your brother, I’m certain. Only at first, I did not recognize the symptoms. But that is no bruise he bears. His veins are gradually hardening.” She must have lifted the claw in question. Gwendolyn heard it clatter softly against the wooden table as she laid it back down.

“Art certain?”

“Quite,” affirmed Esme. “Fortunately for both, unlike yew, spriggan poison is slow to pass through the system. Neither is it fatal, so long as there is a ready antidote. I will administer it when I leave here. He will wake in a day or two.”

There was no small measure of relief in Lir’s tone. “Thank the gods!”

“No gods to thank for this one,” said Esme, with a snide laugh. “If you wish to thank anyone, you may thank me.”

“And her? Will you dose her as well?”

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