Page 44 of The Prison Healer

Jaren, however, had already been at Zalindov for nearly three and a half weeks, and showed no signs of disappearing from her life. If anything, it was the opposite, with her seeing more of him as time passed. Part of that was due to the bond he’d formed with Tipp, the younger boy having adopted Jaren, deciding it was his purpose to help the newcomer survive. And Tipp’s connection to Kiva meant Jaren was, by mutual acquaintance, connected to her as well.

But still ... Kiva was out of her element with this and had no idea how to respond to his request—no, hisdemand—for answers. While she was touched that he cared, she also dreaded that kind of attention. She’d been at Zalindov long enough to know not to form lasting relationships. Tipp was the only person Kiva allowed evenremotelyclose to her heart, and she was determined to keep it that way.

Nevertheless, seeing the concern on Jaren’s face, the tears still in Tipp’s eyes, even the tight pinch to the listening Naari’s features, Kiva couldn’t muster the antipathy required to keep from answering.

“Help me up, would you?” she asked softly. “I want to show you something.”

While she would have preferred Tipp’s assistance, Jaren was more capable of supporting her, so she pushed aside her pride and allowed him to wrap his arm around her as she rose shakily to her feet.

Kiva couldn’t keep a quiet moan from leaving her lips as bolts of electricity shot up her legs, her very nerves protesting the move. While nothing was broken, it still felt likeeverythingwas.

“You all right?” Jaren asked.

She looked at him, realizing how close his face was to hers, his blue-gold eyesright there,and firmly told herself that she’d never live it down if she blushed while in his arms. “I already told you, I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” he argued, his forehead creasing. “I don’t need to be a healer to know that much.”

“Then why ask if I’m all right?” Kiva shot back, trying—and failing—to keep her temper in check. When she saw a muscle tick in his cheek, she blew out a breath and said, more patiently, “I fell fifty feet, Jaren, and I’m alive—so Iamfine, considering the alternative.” She paused, then grudgingly admitted, “But I stillfeellike I fell fifty feet, sofineis relative.”

Jaren wrapped his arm more securely around her, pulling her deeper into his body as if to make absolutely sure she wouldn’t hurt herself further. “The prince should have caught you sooner,” he said tightly.

Kiva didn’t ask how he knew, guessing word had spread like wildfire around the prison. She only hoped he didn’t knowwhythe prince had saved her. She didn’t need any more humiliation tonight. “He didn’t have to catch me at all.”

Jaren’s eyebrows rose. “You’redefending—”

“He’s the reason I’m still here,” Kiva cut in, though she was more surprised than anyone to hear the words come from her lips. Never did she imagine that she would be defending aVallentis.

“But—”

“What do you want t-to show us, Kiva?” Tipp interrupted Jaren. “You shouldn’t be out of b-bed for long.”

Kiva’s heart warmed toward the boy, and she sent him a small smile. He didn’t return it, still barely meeting her eyes.

Sighing inwardly, Kiva said to Jaren, “Can you help me over to Tilda?”

Jaren’s lips pressed together, a clear sign of how he felt toward the other woman. But he did as Kiva requested and helped her shuffle painfully across the room, where he drew back the curtain to reveal the sleeping Rebel Queen.

Throughout all this, Kiva tried to ignore the firmness of his body, the reassurance of his strength supporting her. She wouldn’t let herself be comforted by his touch, no matter how safe, how protected, she felt in his arms.

Pushing away from him to take a seat on the stool beside Tilda’s bed—and breathing easier now that there was more space between them—Kiva waited until Tipp approached before she pointed at the woman and said, “When you look at her, what do you see? What does she represent?”

Naari moved closer, as if not wanting to miss what Kiva was about to say. Kiva didn’t pay her any mind—after having gone head-to-head with the Princess of Evalon and then dealing with the rakish crown prince, the prison guard didn’t seem so intimidating anymore. What could she do? Sentence Kiva to death? She was already facing that with the Ordeals; there was little else left to fear. And besides, Naari had proved that she wasn’t one of the guards whom Kiva needed to worry about. If the amber-eyed woman wanted to listen in, so be it.

“What d-do you mean?” Tipp asked, brushing his red fringe from his eyes. “It’s just T-T-Tilda.”

“Look closer,” Kiva encouraged him. “Who is she?”

Tipp looked confused. “The R-Rebel Queen?”

Jaren’s body turned solid, his eyes shooting from Kiva to Tilda and back again. As if wary of her answer, he slowly asked, “Are you ... sympathetic to her cause? Is that why you saved her?”

Kiva weighed her response, thinking over her family’s complicated history with the rebels and where she fit into it, what she believed. With each second that passed, Jaren became more tense, until finally Kiva said, “I’m not some rebel underling, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Jaren visibly relaxed.

“That said, I’m notunsympathetic,” Kiva admitted, causing him to turn rigid again. It was obvious where his own sentiments lay. Given his outburst after Tilda’s arrival, Kiva knew he was solidly in the anti-rebel camp.

“How can you—”

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