Book 2: Healing

Estrella

I lie in bed with my arms crossed, glaring at the canopy overhead. Anwen Solberg may be the most stubborn, most callous man I’ve ever met in my life. How dare he call me weak? How dare he commit such atrocities in my name and then have the gall to act surprised when I show him the truth of his actions?

Thinking of him, at least, is easier than thinking of the man in pain, somewhere in this castle.

The candle next to me sputters, then pops. Three times. Which means I have been staring angrily at the ceiling for an hour and a half. I groan and scrub my eyes. Lying here is only likely to irritate me further, so with a sigh, I get out of bed. Dressing is difficult without a second set of hands, but I manage to get myself into something near-presentable before slipping out of my room.

Only the cold, stone hallways of the castle I’ve spent the last week and a half in greet me. It is too late and too early for servants, so I have the space