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I couldn’t have said when it ended. The next time I blinked open my eyes, I lay on my side facing Laurent, my thighs sticky and my body sore inside and out. Laurent rested his hand on my hip.

“You look better,” I said hoarsely. The shadows under his eyes were gone. He was no longer pale.

His lips curved. “Thanks to you, princess.”

“Look at this,” Varick said on my other side.

Wincing, I rolled over and found him propped on the pillows, an arrested look on his face as he stared into the room. I followed his gaze…and caught my breath. Heart thumping, I sat up.

Night-blooming roses filled the room. They covered every surface, forming miniature hills and valleys on the floor. There had to be thousands of them. The roses’ perfume drenched the air.

Varick looked at me. “Did you hear Midian?”

I shook my head. “Not even once.”

Laurent reached down and plucked an errant rose petal from the rumpled sheets. He rubbed it between his fingers, and the scent of night-blooming roses grew stronger. He turned thoughtful eyes to me. “If you can make roses, why not trees?”

My heart thumped faster as his meaning sank in. I swallowed thickly. “You mean the Thicket?”

“Maybe that’s what you’re meant to do, princess. That’s how you save the realm.”

Chapter Twelve

GIVEN

I moved among the wounded of Lar Katerin, dispensing food and water and checking on healing burns.

It was afternoon the next day, and while the basket on my arm was heavy, my heart was lighter than the day before. I hadn’t solved all my problems. The lawn of injured knights and lowpeople was proof enough of that. But I felt better about the Making. I didn’t fully understand its purpose, but Laurent’s idea had merit. Every time I tapped into that deep, wild well of magic, I created flowers and grass. And I was getting better at it.

Most importantly, I hadn’t heard Midian last night. It seemed Jordan was right. In suppressing my magic, I’d dammed it up, forcing it to flow in directions I didn’t like.

A smile tugged at my lips. Jordan was right, but Igrith had warned me first. Something told me she’d have no trouble telling the Archmage to stuff it if she discovered he was taking credit for her wisdom.

The Archmage in question was nowhere to be found this morning. Jordan had made himself scarce since we arrived in Lar Budina. Ordinary Nor Doruvians paid him no mind, but the lords of the Council clearly viewed him with suspicion. Laurent and Varick were with the lords now, discussing possible next steps. Laurent had invited me to attend the meeting, but I knew nothing important would come of the Council’s deliberations. Retaking Lar Katerin was off the table until the reinforcements from the Wastes arrived.

Besides, I could do far more good helping the survivors of yesterday’s attack.

“We’ll need more bandages soon, Your Grace,” a soft voice said behind me.

I turned and smiled at Mira. She and Henrik were another reason for my improved spirits. They had arrived in Lar Budina at dawn, exhausted but otherwise unharmed. After a meal and a few hours of rest, Henrik had gone to help the knights tend the horses. Mira had insisted on feeding as many wounded as she could. When she’d grown too depleted, she became my shadow, helping me prepare salves for the vampires with minor burns.

“The ladies of the town brought more cloth,” I told her now. “It’s in the manor’s Great Hall. I just have to tear it into strips and roll it.”

Mira returned my smile with a shy one of her own. “I can do that for you.” Her breath formed little clouds in the chilly air.

“Are you certain?” I searched her face, looking for signs of fatigue. “You walked through the night, and then you gave so much blood.” I nodded toward the manor. “The most seriously injured are inside, but there’s still plenty of room in the bedchambers upstairs. Take a day to rest.”

Her smile grew, and her pretty brown eyes twinkled. “I’m not sure I’d know how, Your Grace. I grew up on a farm, and I’m the oldest of seventeen siblings.”

I gaped at her. “Seventeen siblings? My goodness.”

She nodded. “Trust me when I say sitting in the Great Hall making bandages sounds like heaven. Put me in any quiet corner, and I’ll be content.”

“Just as long as you promise to eat something. The village baker delivered bread, and there’s fresh juice in the kitchen. Once I’m done here, I’ll fetch it for—”

“I can do it, Your Grace.” Her cheeks went pink. “I couldn’t let you serve me.”

I balanced my basket on my hip, my arm stretched around the wicker rim. “Mira,” I said softly, “you’re serving all of Nor Doru just by being here.” I looked around the sea of occupied cots. Most of the injured were bundled in blankets, eyes closed and chests rising and falling in the steady rhythm of sleep. Nevertheless, I stepped close to Mira and lowered my voice. “I’m half-human. I won’t presume to know how you feel, but I’ve always felt like I never really fit in anywhere. And now that Sithistra has sacked the capital, I can understand why you might hesitate to help the North. But you haven’t hesitated. You and Henrik have offered kindness and much-needed assistance. I’m grateful for it.”