“Your Highness! I wish you had let me know you were coming,” he said. “I would have been happy to attend you in your rooms, if you had—”

“It was my intention that this visit be informal,” Raisa said, thinking, Nothing’s informal anymore. “I don’t need treatment, but there’s someone here who does.” She nodded toward Talia.

Vega’s disinterested gaze swept over Talia. “I don’t know what the girl has told you, but she has been treated, Your Highness,” he said. “She would have been evaluated when she arrived.” He gestured toward the linen wrappings around Talia’s neck. “Her wound has been dressed. Obviously.”

“But there is more to be done,” Raisa said. “She has not recovered her voice, and she has difficulty swallowing. Wouldn’t you follow up in such a situation?”

Vega waved his hand dismissively. “If the matter were brought to my attention, perhaps. But we have hundreds of patients. We must accept that sometimes these injuries result in…permanent disabilities.”

Raisa gripped the arms of her chair, biting back the first response that came to mind. “Sometimes we must accept it, but only after every avenue has been explored. This soldier was injured when she stood between me and an assassin. She deserves better.” She gestured, taking in the other residents of the ward. “How many of these patients might recover with more intensive treatment?”

Lord Vega threw up his hands. “I do not know, Your Highness, but we have limited resources, as you know, and—”

“I understand that, Lord Vega,” Raisa said, rising and putting a hand on his arm. “But I mean to change that. I’m asking you to take personal responsibility for Private Abbott’s treatment and recovery. Her health is a priority for me. More importantly, I’m asking that you establish a system of follow-up for those with more serious injuries.” Seeing Vega’s horrified expression, she added, “I do not mean that you must heal them all personally—I realize the physical impossibility of that—but you must use your extensive knowledge and experience to direct their care.”

Lord Vega inclined his head. “As you wish, Your Highness,” he said, puffing up like a peacock.

“If our high magic resources are limited, then perhaps we should integrate some clan healers into the service in the healing halls,” Raisa said, bracing herself for the reaction she anticipated.

“Copperheads?” Lord Vega’s eyes narrowed. “I hardly think we are so desperate as to resort to backwoods sorcery, Your Highness. And I will tell you right now, there’s not a wizard in the Vale would dare submit to a copperhead healer or take one of their potions, for fear of being poisoned.”