Bri swallowed the bile rising up her throat. The woman’s hair was matted with blood, her right eye swollen shut, and her lip split. Bri had seen soldiers on the battlefield and tortured blue witches with far worse injuries, but the sight of the sleeping babe on the woman’s chest—a stark contrast to the state of her wounds—made white hot fury fill Bri’s body. She was certain she’d never forget the sight.

Baba Omly rushed over to the woman, extracting elixirs from her robes even as she crouched.

“Do you know who I am?” the witch asked, dabbing a droplet of ointment onto her finger.

The woman swallowed. “Baba,” she croaked, barely able to speak.

Bri’s eyes fell to the revealing bruises around her neck.

“Yes,” Baba Omly whispered in a soothing voice. “Is it okay if I treat these wounds?”

The High Priestess paused, waiting for the woman to nod before dabbing magical balms onto her eye and lip. Baba Omly’s hands glowed a flickering bronze as her healing magic poured from her, heightening the power of her remedies.

The woman sighed, leaning her head back against the wall behind her.

“There,” Baba Omly said as her magic soothed the woman’s wounds. “Breathe.”

Bri breathed along with her, taking another deep breath as that tight knot of panic eased into sorrow. The woman’s eyes welled.

“I think we all know who did this,” Bri gritted out.

“He swore he could get the money back.” The woman shook her head. “I convinced him we should lie about how we lost it and ask the Princess for help . . .” She rubbed a shaking hand up and down the fabric that wrapped her baby to her. “I thought maybe if people saw, someone would come.”

“I saw,” Lina said, pulling back her hood.

The woman gasped. “Your Highness.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t help you sooner.” Lina’s voice was tight and Bri felt every ounce of the responsibility in her words. “I won’t let this happen to you again.”

“I . . .” A heavy tear slid down the woman’s cheek and Bri braced for the refusal of Lina’s help. Baba Omly continued applying ointment to the woman’s face, the minty scent of the balm filling the stale air.

“Is your baby injured?” Bri asked.

“No. He didn’t touch her.” The woman shook her head, trying to take another deep breath, but it caught in her throat. Her baby let out a sleepy groan, her tongue fluttering as if she were drinking in her sleep. “That’s all that matters.”

“That’s not all that matters.” Lina’s voice was barely leashed with restraint as she took the woman’s hand in her own. “You matter too.” More tears poured down the woman’s cheeks and Lina waited for her to look up again before she repeated, “You. Matter.”