A single bead of sweat formed on Barkas’s perfect brow and rolled down, catching in the dim light.
Thalia stared up at the dark glass bottle pressed against her lips.
*The medicine might cause unbearable pain.
Or maybe it’s poison.*
But trapped in his immovable, iron grip, she finally surrendered.
She parted her cracked lips.
Barkas tilted the vial.
The thick, intensely bitter liquid flowed over her tongue.
The taste was foul, and she instinctively coughed, trying to turn her head away to spit it out.
But Barkas immediately shifted his grip.
His large hand clamped firmly around her jaw, locking her head in place as he pressed the bottle back to her lips.
Defeated, Thalia swallowed the heavy liquid, her wide, exhausted eyes never leaving his face.
A faint, unreadable glimmer flickered deep within his pale, veiled eyes.
Desperately trying to find even a single, microscopic shred of genuine emotion or regret in those icy depths, Thalia finally went completely limp against his chest.
She fought with everything she had to maintain consciousness, straining her eyes to keep his face in focus.
But the heavy narcotic hit her bloodstream almost instantly.
Her thoughts began to unravel, turning to fog, and the edges of her vision bled into a cloudy, suffocating grey.
Blinking slowly, the last thing Thalia saw before she plummeted into the dark was Barkas’s expressionless mask.
***
How much time had passed, she couldn't say.
It might have been a few minutes, or it might have been a lifetime.
She stared blankly at a wooden ceiling, her brow furrowing in confusion as the rhythmic, rocking clatter of hooves and the heavy creaking of iron-rimmed wheels filled her ears.
As her blurred vision finally cleared, Thalia realized she was staring at the vaulted ceiling of her own royal carriage.
For one brief, shining second, she thought it had all been a terrible dream.
The monstrous shadow descending from the clouds, Barkas sprinting away to save Ayla, the horrifying wyvern plucking her from the earth...
perhaps it had all just been a vivid nightmare brought on by the exhaustion of the pilgrimage.
But then she tried to move her leg, and a blinding spike of agony shot from her knee straight up into her spine.
The illusion shattered.
It was all real.
Thalia bit her lower lip so hard she tasted blood and clutched her thigh.
It felt as though her bones were physically on fire.
Through her thin sleeping gown, she felt the rough texture of heavy linen.
Tracing it with her trembling fingers, she realized her entire left leg, from mid-thigh to her ankle, was tightly encased in thick bandages and rigid wooden splints.
She peeled back the edge of the blanket.
The thick white bandages wrapping her thigh were soaked through with dark, dried blood and yellowish ichor.
Her breath hitched.
She let the blanket fall and grabbed the iron handle bolted to the carriage wall, trying to drag her upper body upright.
But her legs refused to obey her.
The lower half of her body felt as though it were made of solid lead.
As she tried to force her dead weight upward, a shockwave of pain tore through her pelvis.
With a muffled, strangled cry, she collapsed back into the thick velvet pillows.
"Your Highness?
Are you awake?!"
The carriage suddenly ground to a halt.
A second later, the heavy oak door swung open, letting in a blinding shaft of afternoon sunlight.
Thalia squeezed her eyes shut, turning her head as a silhouette filled the doorway.
It was Sir Edric Lubon.
The young knight looked even more ragged and disheveled than usual, his armor dented and his eyes shadowed with deep exhaustion.
He climbed hastily into the carriage and began rummaging through a small medicinal chest bolted to the floorboards.
"Is the pain unbearable?" Edric asked, his voice thick with anxiety.
"The Imperial Surgeon left several vials of painkillers.
If you drink one now, it will—"
"Why didn't they just use restorative magic?" Thalia interrupted, her voice a dry, rasping croak.
Edric froze, his hand hovering over the chest.
He slowly turned around.
Thalia pulled the blanket up to her chin, glaring at him with pure, venomous suspicion.
"Did my 'dear brother' order the mages to deny me treatment?" she sneered.
"N-no!
Of course not!" Edric stammered, waving his hands frantically.
"The chief mage was able to fuse the worst of the bone fragments and close the arterial wounds, but...
Your Highness, your condition was simply too catastrophic to cure entirely in a field tent."
He swallowed hard, looking at her bandaged leg.
"He said that to ensure you don't lose the leg entirely, we must get you to the Grandmaster Healers at the Imperial Palace."
Thalia didn't drop her hostile glare.
She slowly lowered her eyes to her own leg.
A terrifying, fragmented memory surfaced in her mind—the massive boulder pinning her to the mud, crushing her knee into a bloody pulp.
*Yes,* she thought grimly.
*Without high-level imperial magic, I will be a cripple for the rest of my life.*
But even understanding the medical reality, the sheer physical agony made her deeply irritable.
"So you are telling me I am expected to endure this blinding agony for the entire journey back to the capital?"
"I understand how excruciating it must be," Edric said softly.
"But please, hold on just a little longer.
We have abandoned the pilgrimage route.
The caravan is taking the fastest, most direct road back to Gilliana."
Thalia glanced at him from under her brow, then turned her face toward the small window.
Through the glass, she could see a massive column of heavily armed knights marching across the sunlit plains.
Unconsciously, instinctively, her eyes began scanning the ranks, searching for a flash of familiar ash-gold hair.
The moment she realized what she was doing, a sickening wave of self-loathing washed over her.
She violently yanked the velvet curtain shut.
Even that small, jerky movement drained the last of her energy.
She sagged back into the pillows.
"I am surprised my brother actually agreed to return to the palace," she muttered bitterly.
"After the wyvern swarm attacked, we suffered catastrophic casualties," Edric replied, his tone surprisingly flat.
"It is imperial law that the dead must receive proper burial rites in the capital.
It is highly unlikely His Highness could have found a way to openly object to the retreat, even if he wanted to."
Hearing the naked, sarcastic disdain in the knight's voice, Thalia turned to look at him in genuine surprise.
Realizing he had just spoken treason against the Crown Prince, Edric cleared his throat and hastily changed the subject.
"Regardless, Your Highness, you are deathly pale.
Please, take the medicine first."
He uncorked a small vial and offered it to her.
Thalia stared at it with absolute indifference, then waved her hand dismissively.
"No.
Get out.
I want to rest."
Edric sighed in deep frustration.
"Your Highness, if you refuse to trust me and take the medicine, I will have no choice but to summon Commander Barkas to administer it."
Thalia stopped breathing.
The mere mention of his name was like a physical blow.
It felt as though a serrated dagger had been plunged directly into her chest and violently twisted.
Desperately trying to hide the agonizing heartbreak tearing her apart, Thalia forced her lips into a cruel, mocking smile.
"And what makes you think I trust *him*?"
"But...
but Your Highness, you..." Edric stammered, confused by the sudden venom in her voice.
"I do not trust anyone," Thalia interrupted, her voice dropping to a lethal hiss.
She turned her head, locking her burning, bloodshot eyes on Edric's stubborn face.
She enunciated every single word with absolute, freezing clarity.
"Especially him."
She glared at the knight until he looked away.
"So stop talking nonsense and get out of my carriage."
Edric looked as though he desperately wanted to argue, but seeing the murderous, fragile state she was in, he simply sighed, bowed his head, and stepped out the door.
A few moments later, the carriage jerked into motion, joining the long march back to Gilliana.
Thalia pulled the light summer blanket up to her chin.
The pain, which had dulled slightly during the conversation, returned with a vengeance.
It felt as though her skin were being peeled back from the inside out.
She writhed weakly in the bedding, biting her lip to hold back her whimpers, and eventually clamped her eyes shut, desperately trying to hide from the suffering.
***
As the sun began to set, casting long, dark shadows across the plains, the plump court mage entered her carriage to cast a minor restorative spell.
Thalia lay silently, allowing him to lay his glowing hands over her bandages.
The sensation of another person touching her battered body made her skin crawl with disgust, but she literally didn't have the physical strength to push him away.
"I am going to light some medicinal incense to dull the pain," the mage said softly, sensing her rigid discomfort.
"It will make the journey much easier."
Edric had obviously warned him that she was refusing oral medication.
The mage pulled a small, ornate bronze censer from his robes, placed it near the carriage door, and lit the dried herbs inside with a spark of magic.
A thick, sweet, earthy aroma quickly filled the confined space.
Thalia opened her mouth to snap at him to put the smoking garbage out, but before she could speak, she felt her violently frayed nerves begin to slacken.
The excruciating, sharp edges of the pain radiating from her bones began to soften, blurring into a dull, manageable throb.
She let out a long breath and allowed her head to fall back into the pillows.
Her consciousness rapidly grew heavy and foggy.
The incense was clearly laced with a powerful magical sedative.
For once, the encroaching darkness was a welcome relief.
She let the drug pull her under.
***
But the peace didn't last.
She didn't know how many hours had passed, but the pain returned like a breaking tidal wave, tearing her violently from sleep.
Thalia gasped, her entire body rigid with agony, and forced her heavy eyelids open.
*I need to call the mage.
I need him to light more incense...*
She pressed her hand against her throbbing temple and clumsily tried to push herself up onto her elbows.
And then, her breath caught in her throat.
Her eyes went wide, staring into the pitch darkness of the carriage.
She couldn't see anything.
She couldn't hear anything over the sound of the wheels.
But every single hair on her arms was standing straight up.
*Something is wrong.*