ATASHA’S POV
When I was younger, my father used to say that everyone in the capital was cunning, that they were wolves who could eat you alive with their words. I never believed him. I used to think words couldn’t cut that deep. But after only a few minutes with Lady Kenneth, I realized my father had been right.
I still wasn’t sure why she had come to see me, but I knew one thing, it wasn’t out of goodwill.
Now she walked beside me, her gloved hands folded neatly in front of her as if this were a casual stroll. Earlier, she had expressed her interest in accompanying me to the infirmary, saying she wanted to “observe” my ability.
That alone was enough to surprise me. I had expected her to be one of the first to forbid it, not one of the curious onlookers. Still, I agreed. If she wanted to watch, she could.
We were nearing the infirmary’s entrance when I noticed the crowd forming outside. Men and women bowed as we passed, their expressions bright despite the cold.
A few children ran ahead, holding small bundles of flowers wrapped in cloth. One girl offered me a handful of white winter blossoms, her cheeks red from the chill. I smiled and took them, brushing my fingers lightly over her hair in thanks.
Then an older woman stepped forward next, holding out a basket filled with fruit. “These are from the South, my lady,” she said with a toothy smile. “A trader passed through yesterday. I saved the best ones for you.”
“Thank you,” I said, returning her smile. I turned to Grace, who stood just behind me. “Take care of it, please.”
Grace nodded, accepting the basket.
Lady Kenneth had been silent until then, watching everything with a calm expression. Finally, she spoke. “You seem popular, Your Highness.”
I glanced at her. “I’ve helped them before,” I said simply.
“I see.” Her eyes flicked to the crowd. “And you aren’t afraid they might turn on you someday?”
I frowned slightly. “Why would they turn on me?”
Her tone stayed light, but her words weren’t. “If the test fails, they might think-
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I stopped walking and looked at her, blinking. The surprise on my face made her pause mid–sentence.
“Why would it fail, my lady?” I asked, my voice even. “I am no witch. I never was.”
Before she could reply, a small voice rang out nearby. “Our lady is no witch!”
A boy no older than seven stood in front of the crowd, his fists balled at his sides. His voice carried louder than he probably meant it to, which made heads turned his way.
Another voice followed, an older man’s. “She healed my brother without taking anything in return! Without her, he’d be dead! We know a witch when we see one, and her highness isn’t one of those filthy creatures!”
Then another woman joined in. “Witches help only themselves! Our lady is nothing like them, she’s kind and generous!”
The noise grew as more people spoke up, a ripple of agreement spreading through the crowd. Faces that had once looked cautious now showed something fiercer, loyalty.
Even Lady Kenneth seemed taken aback by the sudden shift. Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out.
I turned toward Grace and gave a small gesture, signaling her to calm the crowd. She nodded and moved quickly to do so.
Then I faced Lady Kenneth again, keeping my tone polite. “Shall we go, my lady?”
She blinked, composed herself, and nodded.
Without another word, I led the way inside the infirmary, the door closing behind us and muting the noise from outside. The faint scent of herbs filled the air, and the sound of quiet breathing replaced the voices. Whatever Lady Kenneth had come here to see, I had a feeling she wasn’t expecting to find loyalty instead of
fear.
Inside, the infirmary was already buzzing with movement. The sharp scent of herbs mixed with the faint metallic trace of blood.
Healers and attendants moved between the cots, washing cloths, grinding roots, checking bandages. There were fewer patients today, nothing like the chaos that came during the red moon, but still enough to keep the staff busy.
Mendez spotted us almost immediately. He crossed the room with his usual steady stride and bowed. “Your Highness,” he said first, then turned toward the woman beside me. “My Lady.”
Lady Kenneth inclined her head, her expression composed. “It’s nice seeing you again, Healer Mendez.”
I glanced at her, curious. “You’ve met?”
She smiled faintly, eyes flicking toward him. “A long time ago, when I was younger. My father was hosting a hunt. Healer Mendez was part of the escort sent by the palace.”
Mendez gave a small nod, clearly remembering. “That’s right, my lady.”
I nodded, accepting the explanation. “How is everything today?”
He exhaled through his nose. “Quiet, Your Highness. No wounded since yesterday. Thanks to your help, the men are recovering faster than usual. What we have now are minor cases, coughs, sprains, fevers. They’ll be fine within days.”
“That’s good to hear,” I said, smiling slightly. For a moment, it almost felt calm.
That peace didn’t last long.
The doors burst open, slamming against the wall. A soldier stumbled in, panting. “Lieutenant! There’s been an accident at the mine–again!”
Mendez’s expression hardened. “How many?”
“Two, maybe three. The others are bringing them now. There was a small explosion in one of the tunnels. The supports gave way.”
Mendez swore under his breath and started giving orders. “Prepare three beds. Boil more water. Get the salves ready. Clear that corner, now!”
The room shifted instantly into motion. The healers grabbed supplies, cleared space, and within minutes, two men were carried in.
The first was barely conscious, his shirt torn, his face streaked with soot. His right arm hung at an angle no arm should. The skin along his forearm was blistered and raw, burned from wrist to elbow. The second man, younger, had burns across his chest and side. The smell of smoke clung to both of them.
They were screaming, hoarse, pained sounds that filled the room.
My body moved before thought caught up.
I stepped forward, skirts brushing the floor, and crouched beside the man with the worse wounds. His breathing came in broken gasps, the whites of his eyes showing through soot–streaked lashes. His pulse fluttered weakly under my fingers.
“Hold him still,” I said.
Two healers obeyed without question. I pressed my palm to his chest. The warmth came instantly, familiar, sharp, alive. It spread from my hand into his body, sinking beneath skin and bone.
Almost immediately, the burns began to pale, the torn flesh knitting together, blackened skin giving way to pink. His broken arm straightened, bone shifting back into place with a faint crack.
Gasps filled the room. Someone whispered a prayer.
Behind me, I heard Lady Kenneth draw in a breath, quick and quiet, but full of disbelief. She had stepped closer without realizing it, her gloved hand half–raised as if she couldn’t decide whether to move forward or back.
I didn’t look at her. My focus stayed on the man until the glow under my hand dimmed and his breathing steadied. The pain left his face, replaced by exhaustion. He blinked up at me once, dazed.
“You’re safe now,” I said softly, withdrawing my hand. “Physician…” I said. Mendez immediately took over.
When I finally stood, Lady Kenneth was still staring, her eyes fixed on my hands like she couldn’t believe what she’d just seen.
But I didn’t waste time looking at Lady Kenneth. Her shock wasn’t my concern.
I turned to the second man, the younger one. His burns were worse across the chest, dark and cracked where
the blast must have hit him directly. The skin along his ribs was blistered and peeling, and his breathing came in short, sharp gasps as if every inhale scraped his throat raw.
This man was… dying!
He was trembling, his fists clenching at the edge of the cot. The smell of smoke and singed cloth hung heavy around him. One of the healers tried pressing a damp cloth to his chest, but he flinched, biting back a cry.
“Move aside,” I said, stepping closer.
The healer obeyed immediately. I sat on the edge of the cot, placed my hand flat on his sternum, and closed my eyes. The power came quicker this time, responding like it already knew what to do. The warmth spread from my palm, pushing deeper until I felt the tension in his body ease under my touch.
The blisters began to fade. The blackened skin softened, flaking away to reveal new tissue beneath. Soon enough, his shallow breathing steadied, the rattle in his chest fading with each second. The smell of burnt flesh was replaced by something faintly metallic, the scent that always followed my healing.
The man let out a shaky breath and went still, his body finally relaxing. I pulled my hand back, the glow around my fingers fading as the last of his wounds closed.
The room stayed quiet again, everyone watching.
Behind me, I could still feel Lady Kenneth’s stare, sharp, curious, and heavy with something else. But I didn’t turn around. I wasn’t here to prove anything to her or anyone else.
“Make sure they rest,” I said to Mendez, brushing my palms on the edge of my skirt. “And tell the miners to check the supports again before anyone goes back in.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” Mendez said, still watching me like he wasn’t sure whether to speak or bow.
I finally straightened and turned toward the door. Lady Kenneth was still standing in the same place, her eyes fixed on me, her face composed but her grip on her gloves too tight.
“Shall we continue, my lady?” I asked evenly.
Her lips parted, but no sound came out. After a second, she nodded, her gaze flicking once more to the healed men before following me out of the room.
