“Here, Prince Hawthorne,” I motion him toward me, scooting over to make space for him next to me. “Heal Russell with me. It will go faster, and then he can help us with his family.” He nods and sits next to me, his large frame crowding my space. Despite the circumstances, my body reacts to the nearness of him, goosebumps breaking out across my flesh. I’m acutely aware of every line of muscle that presses in against me, of the heat of his body as it wraps around me.

Russell still eyes the Prince with fear, but allows Hawthorne to place hands on his chest, where melted clothing sticks to his skin. Bright, warm light nearly blinds me. I look away, keeping my focus on the water I’m running across blistered skin. Russell gasps, and I look up. The light is gone, and Russell’s entire upper body has been healed. It’s not perfect, and he’ll still need additional treatment, but the skin is deep red instead of black. Water gathers in the Prince’s palms, and he briefly closes his eyes in concentration before setting his hands on Russell’s chest, allowing the water to soothe and heal the wound once more. When he’s done, Russell’s chest is pink, like he got a little too much sun.

“That’s incredible,” I murmur, reluctantly impressed. Prince Hawthorne doesn’t even react, just moves to Russell’s legs.

“It’ll be bright again. Close your eyes,” he commands. I do as he says, though he wasn’t speaking to me. Even with my eyes closed, I still feel the warmth of the light he conjures, can feel it soothing my own nerves. His body adjusts next to me, pressing him even closer against my side. I sigh contentedly, then immediately cough to hide the noise. When the light fades, I open my eyes to once again look at crimson skin. “How does that feel, Russell?” the Prince asks, his voice soft and kind. A piece of hair falls in his face, and I want to push it away. Instead, I stand, ignoring the squeezing in my chest.

“Th-thank you,” Russell says from the ground.

“I’m sorry this happened to you,” the Prince croaks out, genuine emotion in his voice. “I’d like to help your family now, if that’s okay. Can I help your children?” Russell nods, and the Prince moves on to the first child. I can only watch, entranced by the gentleness of his movements. When her legs are healed, she wakes, screaming in fear and pain. Russell takes her hand while Prince Hawthorne smooths her hair back from her face.

“It’s okay, my angel,” Russell coos. “This is a Prince, and he’s going to heal you.” She stops screaming, though tears still run down her cheeks as she stares up at Hawthorne without fear in her eyes.