Page 27 of A Healer's Wrath

“Tossing wine on yourself already, dear?” the Queen quipped as she entered from the opposite side of the room. Despite wearing an unremarkable dress and no jewelry beyond the diamond on her finger, Asin glided through the small chamber with the grace and beauty of the fae found in children’s fables.

I dropped into a deep curtsy and held myself low.

“Now, stop that. You are among family now. No need for a show.” The King barely looked up as he dabbed his shirt with a napkin, while servants scurried to find something to remove the stain. One suggested getting the King another shirt, but Asin wouldn’t hear of it. “Let him suffer. Spilling good wine is abuse of the highest order.”

The servant’s eyes widened as he backed away, but I caught a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

I reached for a chair across the table from the royals, but Asin’s hawk-like gaze stopped me.

“Not a chance, young lady. You come sit close to us.” She patted the chair next to the Queen’s setting. I shuffled into my seat as another attentive servant pulled my chair back.

How many servants do they have? I thought, as two more appeared to fill our glasses.

At a gesture from the Queen, I took a sip of wine. It was sweet and tasted of plums. More importantly, the light liquid sent a pleasant warmth into my chest. As thrilled as I was to be there, my nerves were abuzz.

“So, Irina,” the King began, admitting defeat over his stained shirt, allowing crimson to flower across white. “How are things at the Medica these days?”

“Mel, please. Let the poor girl stop thinking about Healing for one night.” The Queen shot the King a look, then turned toward me. “Tell us more about you, dear, something our court of spies does not already know.”

The King chuckled as my eyes widened. “You have spies—”

“I was joking, but yes, we have lots of them,” Asin said before her husband could interject.

“Oh, right. Of course, you do.” I fumbled with a fork, desperate for somewhere to send my nervous energy. “Well, I spend most of my time either here or at the infirmary. There’s not much to tell.”

And so the royal grilling began. The Queen might’ve scolded the King for pressing me to talk about the infirmary, but Asin was relentless with questions around my childhood and personal life. Half the time, I could barely get an answer out before the Queen asked her next question. It was all good-natured inquisitiveness, and I was sure the woman liked me, but it was dizzying trying to keep up.

The King, used to his wife’s antics, sipped his wine and watched through amused eyes.

Dinner consisted of a brothy beef stew, roasted potatoes, several preparations of greens, and loaves of freshly baked bread. While the food was hearty and filling, it was nothing like the spread we’d enjoyed at my elevation to Crown Healer. The King apologized for the peasant fare, claiming they usually ate so richly they thought it nice to take a night off from that, too, once in a while. I thought it was one of the tastiest, most lavish meals I’d had in years. The simplicity of the royal couple’s lives I witnessed behind the veil of the Crown made me appreciate and like the pair even more.

And yet, simple did not mean sparse. Servants placed more food than we could eat in a week on the table, and wine flowed more freely than melted snow down the Spires in Spring. By the time dessert was served, my nerves had calmed. From the reflection of candlelight in the King’s glassy eyes, he and the Queen were tipsy.

When the King began telling jokes, Asin tried to intervene, but I begged him to continue. We laughed through tears as servants cleared the plates, leaving only dessert wines in thumb-sized goblets.

“Irina, we have had such a wonderful time tonight,” Asin said. “We would love to see more of you, if you are willing to join us from time to time.”

“Oh, Your Majesty, I’d love that. You’re not at all what I—”

The last of my statement stuck in my throat as the Queen lifted a brow.

“Everyone thinks she’s a sharp-tongued devil.” The King snorted.

Asin slapped his arm.

“Well, they do!” He earned another slap.

I failed to stifle a giggle, and the three of us lost ourselves in the moment again.

Until the Queen gripped her chest and tumbled to the stone floor.

“Asin!” the King screamed.

I shoved back my chair and threw myself to the ground beside the Queen. Light flared from my palms, turning the dimly lit room into a core of sunlight.

Servants raced out of the room, desperate to find help.

Silver-plated guards raced in.