“Your Majesty,” Carex huffs out, a panic in his voice that puts me on edge. “I just received a missive. There’s been another rebel attack. On Rusthelm.” My heart sinks. I’d just sent two healers there to help with the village-wide illness. Is the attack because of my assistance? How can I protect my people if any action from me spurs the rebels to retaliate?

The guilt and frustration force me into action. I’m immediately on my feet, ready to aerstep there and wipe out the rebel force. The room shakes with my power, and for the briefest of moments, I lose a tiny bit of my awareness, lost in rage and what feels like madness. But it’s so short I barely register it, too focused on the situation at hand. I scan the faces of every advisor in meticulous detail, looking for the smallest twitch of lips or lack thereof, hoping to find someone who doesn’t look surprised at the news and might lead me to the mole. But shocked and concerned faces are all that stare back at me, waiting for my orders. Carex places his hand on my arm, and I jump slightly at his touch.

“We’ve stopped the attack, and the rebels fled.” His lowered voice and attempt at a soothing touch tell me he’s trying to comfort me, but nothing can make this reality any better. “But there were many injuries. We need more healers. Quickly.”

“Let me help,” Prince Hawthorne interrupts before I can respond. “I’m a powerful healer. I heal with both water and light.” Carex’s furrowed brow matches my own skepticism, though I also can’t ignore the shock his ability to heal with two conduits brings. I knew he was powerful, but this is rare and unusual.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I say firmly while Carex nods in agreement, though several advisors seem to purse their lips. The Prince has won them over these last weeks. It’s infuriating.

“How many were injured?” Prince Hawthorne asks. Carex hesitates. The Prince stands, his towering frame dominating the room. “How many? Tell me,” he demands, and I’m taken aback by the seriousness and authority in his voice. It’s the voice of a leader, a ruler, brokering no room for argument. He fills the entire room with his imposing presence, and it’s no surprise that Carex gives in to his command.

“Dozens, maybe more, is our best guess,” Carex admits. Anguish fills my chest. I must stop these attacks.