Sneak Peek The Stolen Kingdom

The Queen and the Heiress Book 2

Blood soaked Maris's hands, but she fought through the excruciating pain in her broken arm. They had taken refuge in Lasmeer's modest home in Ophelia, their only sanctuary amidst the chaos. Melvian's father was gone, a victim of their pursuers, and Maris couldn't shake the dreadful feeling that they would come for Lasmeer next.

Lasmeer was the only person Maris could trust. His kindness towards Valda gave her a glimmer of hope that he wasn't a traitor. She held her breath as they arrived at his doorstep, her mind racing with fear and uncertainty. If Lasmeer had betrayed them, if he laid a hand on Valda…

Isen pounded his open palm against the door while Melvian hurried to assess Valda's injuries. Maris couldn't tear her gaze away from Melvian's face, searching for any sign of hope or reassurance. But her expression remained unreadable, intensifying Maris's growing desperation. She needed to feel Valda's presence, to know she was still alive.

When Lasmeer answered the door, weariness and confusion etched across his face, Maris held her breath. Recognition flickered in his eyes as he saw Isen, a genuine smile lighting up his tired features as he pulled him into an embrace—a gesture of goodwill that eased Maris's apprehension for a moment. But as Lasmeer's gaze shifted to Valda's lifeless body, confusion morphed into shock.

"By Ouranos, what happened to her?" Lasmeer exclaimed.

Tears cascaded down Maris's cheeks. "They betrayed her," she choked out between sobs. "Arwin... he killed all the soldiers who refused to turn against Valda, and..." She bit her trembling lip, struggling to articulate her anguish. Valda was injured, unresponsive, and Maris's broken arm had grown cold.

Lasmeer gestured for her silence, his hand moving through the air urgently. "Quickly, come inside! We mustn't let them know she's here."

Isen nodded at Lasmeer, cradling Valda in his arms as he brushed past him into the house. Melvian placed a comforting hand on Maris's thigh, her voice filled with urgency. "Come, Maris. Let's get you inside."

"I'll tend to the horses. Go," Lasmeer interjected, already taking charge of Isen's horse and reaching for Melvian's.

Maris leaned heavily against Melvian's shoulder, dismounting from the horse with a mix of desperation and determination. Isen gently laid Valda face down on a long dining table, his brow furrowed with worry as he ran his hands through his mussed hair. Maris took in his disheveled appearance—dirt, blood, and exhaustion were clear in his clothes and an untrimmed beard. He bore the scars of a battle she couldn't comprehend. Had Arwin harmed him? The thought sent a shiver down Maris's spine, evoking memories of her own suffocation, and her mother's tragic end.

"Melvian, time is running out," Isen's voice boomed, piercing through the small living room. His anger and desperation mirrored Maris's own.

Melvian approached Maris, cupping her face and grounding her in the present. "I need to attend to Valda, Maris. Can you hold on for a little longer?"

Maris's focus shifted from Valda to her friend, determination and trust flickering within her gaze. She nodded, gently pushing Melvian away without a second thought. "Go."

Melvian sprang into action, positioning herself near Valda's flank. Closing her eyes, she moved her hand over Valda's back, arms, and legs. Maris watched, captivated by the young healer's intense concentration as she worked her magic. Suddenly, Melvian stopped, opened her eyes, and turned to Isen.

"Punctured lung, three broken ribs."

A lump formed in Maris's throat as she hurried to Valda's side, her trembling hand brushing against Valda's dark hair for the first time. She noticed, with a pang of dread, the laborious rise and fall of Valda's chest.

"I will need towels, water, a knife and a makeshift tube," Melvian announced just as Lasmeer walked inside the home.

"I will fetch them for you," he said as he turned to another room. "I have a couple of wooden straws that could work."

"Yes, please," Melvian replied, nudging Isen with her elbow. The handsome Sealian nodded, reaching behind him to produce a flask.

Maris furrowed her brow, glancing at the metal container and then at Melvian and Isen. "This isn't the time to be drinking—"

"Maris," Isen interrupted, his tone firm and commanding. It sent a shiver down her spine. "It's Sealian water. It will speed up the healing of your arm. Drink."

Melvian nodded in agreement, her gaze steady. "But first, I need to align the bones. If I don't, your arm may heal improperly, and you could lose use of it." It dawned on Maris then, the reason behind Isen's slightly battered appearance. Perhaps he carried the flask with him wherever he went. It made sense.

"It's going to hurt... a lot," Melvian warned.

"Fine, just hurry so you can tend to Valda," Maris responded, turning to Isen, who promptly opened the flask for her, his hands finding her shoulder and supporting her injured arm. Maris winced and clenched her teeth as Melvian grasped her wrist and elevated her arm.

"When I tell you, drink."

Maris nodded, placing the flask's mouth against her lips. Her hand trembled with anticipation, fully aware of the impending pain.

"Take a deep breath," Melvian instructed.

Maris tightened her grip, following Melvian's guidance.

"And..."

The sickening sound of bones snapping together made Maris's stomach churn.

"Drink!"

Maris let out a pained scream, momentarily drowned out by the forceful intake of Sealian water. She swallowed, preparing to pull away, but Isen tilted the bottle higher, urging her to drink every last drop.

The healing properties of the water took immediate effect on Maris's arm. The pain gradually subsided, leaving behind a faint burning sensation from her elbow to her shoulder. As Maris cautiously tested her arm's mobility, Lasmeer entered the room with the requested supplies and Melvian set to work.

Maris watched in silence as Melvian washed her hands in the basin and took the small knife in her grasp. Isen removed Valda's torn blouse, tossing it aside. Maris hovered nearby, her hands clasped to her chest, feeling a sense of helplessness. Eventually, she noticed Lasmeer pulling out two chairs, silently urging her to sit. It took a moment, but Maris finally acquiesced, trusting that Melvian and Isen knew what they were doing. She had never witnessed Melvian's skill and was awed by her friend. Isen stood steadfast beside her, no words needed as he moved with purpose, making it difficult for Maris to comprehend the intricate procedure taking place.

Melvian positioned several towels beneath Valda, grasping the sharp knife before plunging it into Valda's flank. Maris felt Lasmeer's firm grip on her wrist, pulling her back as Isen extended his hand, urging her to stay put.

"Stay where you are and let us work," Isen commanded, his eyes blazing with determination to protect at all costs.

Maris's outburst went unnoticed by Melvian, who widened the wound with her finger before replacing it with a straw. Within moments, a thin stream of blood flowed through the straw, and Valda took a deep breath.

Maris felt a feeble tug in their bond as she, too, drew in a breath. As she observed Valda's chest rise steadily, tears welled up in the corners of her eyes.

"Isen, hold this," Melvian instructed, placing his large hand against Valda's flank, holding the straw firmly. She then walked over to Maris, taking hold of her face, staining her beautiful features with Valda's blood.

"She will be fine, won't she?" Maris asked, her gaze shifting from Valda to Melvian.

"Kneel," Melvian said, lowering herself to the floor and pulling Maris down with her. She clasped Maris's hands tightly, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "Repeat every word I say, Maris."

Maris glanced back at Valda, watching her lover grow paler by the second, feeling the bond weakening once again. Just as she reached out to return to Valda's side, Melvian's grip tightened, anchoring her in place.

"Asclepius, God of medicine, hear our plea. Bless our hands and minds. Send forth your sons and daughters to aid us. Help us heal, help us restore. Help—"

"Melvian..." Maris called out, her blunt nails digging into her friend's skin. "I... I can't do this. I've never been a follower of Asclepius."

Opening one eye, Melvian gazed directly at Maris before responding, "Then today is a good day to convert, don't you think?"

Maris released a breath and cast one last glance at her lover before turning back to Melvian. With a nod of understanding, she closed her eyes and whispered, "Asclepius, God of medicine, hear our plea," Maris's words echoed with Melvian's as their prayer drifted into the cold night air.