I stalked off to my rooms, fuming, surrounded by eight guards who were all on edge. They didn't let me into my rooms until four of them had checked everything, including Dain's adjoining rooms and Kamharida's room. Two guards posted themselves in the servant's entrance, four outside the suite, and two more next to the door adjoining Dain's rooms. Kamharida managed to talk me into washing off the blood, which took me away from my angry fear for Dain and back into nightmarish horror.

None of the guards so much as flinched as I gagged and started tearing my bloody clothing off. If there'd been anything left in my stomach but acid I would have puked on the fancy carpets. Thank God for small blessings.

I stripped out of my bra and pants, then sobbed as I frantically scrubbed myself in the tub Kamharida had prepared for me while I'd been in the hospital ward. The water turned pink from the blood: my blood, Dain's blood, the blood of a nameless fae man who had tried to kill us both. I sat in it, sobbing, tears and snot dripping off of my face, still scrubbing at my clean hands. Kamharida, as much my friend as my helper, gentled me out of the water and toweled me off while I cried myself out.

She was human; she understood about the comfort of home and the usual things. She put me in ugly, comfy sweatpants, a clingy tank top instead of a bra, and an oversized black hoodie from some Christian store, that proclaimed "FAI✝H over FEAR", with a cross instead of a "T". I dug through my human clothing to find a pair of socks, pulling on a pair of fluffy cotton-candy pink ones with love-hearts, and marched over to Dain's room to wait for him.

He got hauled in maybe ten minutes after I'd arrived, looking miserable. I ceased my pacing to wring my hands as two of the palace guards half-carried him to his bed, with me trailing after them. I recognized them from the fighting courts, and I was willing to bet that they were putting themselves in danger by offering even this much assistance to the crown prince.

One of them stopped me with a touch on the arm when I went to go past them as they turned to leave. At my sharp look, she smiled, her lovely brown eyes kind. "Here," she said in a quiet voice, pressing an orange plastic prescription bottle into my hands. "He will almost certainly not take them on his own, but he might if you ask, and he is in a lot of pain."