Chapter 22: Bedside Manner

“How’s he doing?”

“His fever broke this morning.”

“Why haven’t you left his side?”

“He… saved my life. He was ready to endanger himself, sacrifice himself, for me… his enemy…”

Skylar heard the voices like they were underwater or muffled by a pillow. He opened his eyes. Everything was blurred like a gossamer sheet was draped over him.

The king lifted his arm to wipe his eyes. His side screamed in pain and he groaned.

“Ow!” he grunted.

“Hey! Don’t move your right arm!” someone snapped.

“What happened?” Skylar asked. He blinked furiously, vision slowly starting to clear.

Someone leaned over him… the scent of cloves and spices tickled his nose. Illyra.

“Your fever is gone but you’re still a little sweaty and pasty,” she said.

“Should I go get a healer?” someone else asked. Cole. Skylar would know his voice anywhere.

“No!” Skylar grunted. “Just… give me a minute.”