Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 105132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
She moved immediately to go to her, crossing the space quickly, then stopped. She turned to look at the king, having forgotten to seek his permission.
Dravic held her gaze for a moment then gave a single nod.
Adira hurried forward and hugged Feena tightly, the older woman returning the embrace just as heartily. Her sweet fragrance drifted over Adira, and she relished the scent of mixed herbs so familiar to her. Her hugs and scent were like returning home to a safe place, to a person who truly cared for her, and she wanted to linger there.
Dravic watched the exchange without comment, seeing the way Adira clung to the woman and did not seem to want to let go.
“Enough!” he said abruptly.
Feena quickly turned Adira to face the king.
Briefly, Adira had forgotten she was in the king’s castle. For a fleeting moment, she was back home in the small cottage she and Feena shared. She was reminded all too well when she saw the king point toward the chair near the hearth.
She was to sit, and she did so immediately.
Feena remained standing.
Dravic pointed to the other chair near the hearth. “Sit.”
Feena waited for the king to sit first.
“You have permission to sit, Feena,” he said, and she did.
Feena did so, carefully, hands folding in her lap as she settled.
Dravic began to pace in front of her, not a hurried pace nor aimless, more measured as if something weighed on his mind.
Adira watched from the chair, quiet, attentive, trying to follow the expressions, gestures, and shifting energy in the room.
Dravic stopped suddenly. “Tell me about her.”
Feena did not need to ask who.
“Everything that you know or may think,” he added before she could respond.
“There is not much to tell my king. I came across Adira half-starved after a particularly brutal winter. Her mom had been a healer and a good one. A fever had taken her, and Adira had struggled to survive. It has been about three winters since I brought her home with me. Her hands are clever with herbs, and her heart is steady.” Feena smiled gently and looked at Adira. “I assume she is around twenty years, though I cannot be sure of her age. She became mine and I think of her as my own. I cherish the day she came into my life.”
Dravic kept a stern eye on her. “That was generous of you to take in a woman who certainly would not be easy to deal with.”
Feena kept her smile gentle. “What kind of healer would I be if I turned her away?”
“Since you are a healer, tell me this… have you any idea why she cannot hear or speak?”
Adira felt a quiet stillness settle in the room, and she sensed the conversation continued to remain about her.
Feena did not answer at once. Her eyes drifted briefly to Adira, then back to the king. Not with concern alone, but with something older—thoughtful, measured, as if weighing not only what she knew, but what she believed could ever be known.
“I have asked myself that question more than once. But some things are not wounds to be understood like others.” She paused briefly. “Not all silence is taken, and not all voices are lost in the same way.”
Dravic’s eyes narrowed slightly.
Feena met his gaze without flinching. “If there is a reason, it is not one my skills have ever been able to reach.” She took a soft breath. “But I have learned this… whatever her afflictions, she was meant to be protected.”
Chapter Six
Caerith Castle
Council Chambers
Three days of warmer sun had softened the heavy blanket of snow that had imprisoned Caerith Castle. Water dripped steadily from the eaves, and patches of brown earth now broke through the white in the courtyard below. The promise of spring remained distant, but winter had finally loosened its grip enough for travel.
The council chamber filled one member at a time.
No voices rose above quiet conversation. Boots echoed against the stone floor, cloaks were shed to waiting servants, and the chill that clung to each man drifted briefly through the chamber before the warmth of the great hearth claimed it. The scent of burning oak mingled with damp wool and melting snow, reminders that the kingdom still stood between winter and spring… and perhaps between peace and war.
Lord Marshal Broccan arrived first, broad-shouldered and solid as the fortress itself. Lord Cormac followed close behind, greeting Edwin, who carried a leather ledger tucked beneath one arm. Lord Garran entered next, his sea-blue cloak still damp from the ride from the merchant quarter. Ronan, Cadmus’s chosen representative from Venngraith, nodded to the others but wasted no time on conversation. Elder Mairi arrived last, her calm presence drawing respectful bows from every member before she quietly took her seat.
Only Tavish remained standing.
The chamber doors opened once more.
King Dravic entered, and the room fell silent.