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93 - On Faith
She could sense the mistrustful glares fixed upon her as she hurried back to the bedroll where the young man had begun gasping for breath, a good sign no matter his pain because any breathing was better than none. That was fine with her. They could question her all they liked from a distance. She expected nothing from them anyway, just the space to do what she needed to do.
The Prince lumbered to her side and sat on his haunches like some kind of frilled, giant mastiff, ready to do whatever it was he’d done before to kill that poison tendril. But this was no good. The sun glared off the sand, rays baking the man’s wounds, and his nakedness was going to kill him in this direct heat. She kneeled by his side and looked frantically around, rolling up her billowing sleeves once more. “Kai! He needs shade. The hotter he is, the harder it is for me to find the poison in him.”
She had thought he would bark out an order for someone to help him
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