Page 121 of Song of the Heart Scale
His eyes narrowed.
“Enough,” said the woman beside him, stepping forward. Her voice was even, but there was something unnerving in it, like the sound of knives behind silk. “She cannot heal if her fury boils her blood.”
“Fine,” Thorne said, waving a hand. “Heal her. Quickly. I need her on her feet by the time the delegates arrive.”
Delegates? My stomach churned.
“Arya, this is Jacinda. She’s a witch healer. Let her treat you.” With that greeting, Thorne turned on his heels and left the room.
The witch knelt beside me and gently placed her fingers on my forehead. Her touch was cold. “Lie still, Lady Arya. This will hurt before it helps.”
Of course it will.
I sank back onto the bed, glaring at the ceiling as pain lanced through me again.
But I didn't scream.
I wouldn't give Thorne the satisfaction.
Not now.
Not ever.
Pain still crawledbeneath my skin like fiery embers that refused to die out. I lay back against a mountain of silk pillows,grinding my teeth against the groan rising in my throat as the witch, Jacinda placed her icy fingertips along the bruises on my ribs.
A pulse of power surged through me like lightning.
“Gah!” I gasped as heat flared from my side to my spine, and for a second I swore I saw stars. It felt like acid and ice all at once, like someone was stitching raw flesh together with burning wire.
“Do not move,” Jacinda murmured, her voice deceptively soft.
I growled low in my throat and gripped the edge of the mattress until my knuckles went white. “Easy foryouto say. You’re not the one being skewered alive.”
Maeve winced from her seat near the hearth, her clenched hands trembling in her lap. Her eyes were swollen from crying and her lip still bore a faint red imprint where she'd bitten it bloody trying to keep quiet.
The pain slightly ebbed as Jacinda moved to my shoulder, whispering words in a tongue I didn’t recognize. The room smelled of sage and bloodroot, the acrid scent of magic dancing on the air.
When Jacinda finally pulled her hands away, I sagged against the bed, sweat clinging to my skin.
“You're not fully healed,” she said. “But the internal bleeding has stopped. Your bones are mending. I’ve done what I can. The rest will take time.”
“Thank you,” I managed to say, though my voice cracked like old parchment.
Jacinda turned to leave, gathering her satchel, but I reached out weakly. “Wait. Please. Before you go... can you check on Maeve?”
Jacinda’s lips thinned. “I was not summoned for the servant.”
“Thorne hit her and when we were in the dungeons she was hit in the head,” I said through clenched teeth. “If you leave her like this, then you’re no better than him.”
Jacinda hesitated.
Maeve quickly stood, shaking her head. “My lady, it’s fine. You need your strength. I can—”
“Sit down!” I snapped. “Jacinda.Please.”
The witch studied me for a moment longer, then sighed and nodded. She crossed to Maeve and gently placed a hand against her temple.
Maeve stiffened.
