“I don’t know who you are,” Sheldon said. “And I have to admit, I’ve almost grown to like you, but I can’t leave any witnesses.”

“No!” Farilane screamed, and as Sheldon once more raised his hands, she stepped between the two an instant before the blinding light came.

The force struck her square in the chest, where she still clutched The Book of Brin. Absurdly, the last thought she had was not for her own life, or Kile’s welfare, but how angry she was with herself for not having dropped the book first.

Chapter 15: Going Home

Chapter Fifteen
Going Home

When Farilane woke, it was morning, she was in a bed, and beside her, in what appeared to be a very uncomfortable chair, was Kile. Dark circles lined his eyes. His hair was a mess, his clothes rumpled. The princess struggled to breathe. Her chest felt as if it had been hit by a Grenmorian war hammer.

“Kile?”

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“What in the name of Rel happened?”

“We survived.”

She managed to roll her eyes, which to her surprise didn’t hurt. “Thank you. That was the one point I wasn’t clear about.”

The door to her little bedchamber opened, and a woman stepped in with a tray of food. Seeing Farilane looking back at her, she promptly dropped it on the floor. The crash and clatter were instantly followed by two men in armor bursting into the room. The princess recognized both.

“She’s awake!” Kolby shouted, his tone flush with relief.

“I told you it wouldn’t kill her,” Ethan said. “Take more than a slap to do in our princess.”

More footsteps could be heard, and Nordyan burst in. He, too, looked as fresh as a daisy that hadn’t known sun or water in a week. He stared at her from the doorway, took a breath, and ran a trembling hand through his hair. “You all right?”

“No—not really,” Farilane replied. She hadn’t even tried to move. She knew it wasn’t a good idea. Every inhale made her wince, and they had her trussed up in thick bandages that made her feel like a constrictor snake was trying to let her know theirs was more than a friendship.

“What’s wrong?”

“Broken ribs, I think. Hard to breathe.”

“Had them many times,” Kolby said. “You’ll get over it.”

Nordyan sat beside her on the bed. He placed his hand next to, but not on, hers. “Thought we lost you there for a bit.”

“When was that?” she asked.

“When the knights dragged you out of that burning house. You looked dead.” He glanced at Kile. “You both did.”

“Sephryn!” Farilane’s eyes went wide as in her mind she once more saw that horrible blinding light shoot through the empress dowager.

“She’s dead,” Nordyan said, leaning in as if expecting the need to hold her down.