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RHARRETH LEANED againstthe doorjamb of the set of rooms that Melantha had turned into a hospital. The front part of the large space had been filled with comfortable, padded chairs and benches for those waiting. A servant served warm drinks and dried meat sticks to those waiting. The Escarlish hot chocolate seemed to be a favorite.

In the corner, Vriska and Zavni kept a wary eye in case of trouble. Not that there had been any. In the two weeks since Rharreth and Melantha had returned from the war, the story of how she had saved Rharreth’s life with her magic, survived a hazardous trip through a blizzard, and caused the fearsome Laesornysh to stand down had spread first through those who had been loyal to Rharreth, then through the ranks of those who had rebelled against him.

While resentments still simmered, more and more of both the common people and the warrior families were coming to respect Melantha and the worth she brought as their queen.

From where he stood, Rharreth had a glimpse into the far room as the door opened, and a patient stepped into the waiting room, leaving Melantha standing alone in the door, the dagger he had given her at their wedding now once again belted at her waist.

Behind her, a wall of shelves held glass jars filled with various colored liquids. Bundles of herbs sent from Tarenhiel hung from pegs set into the top row of shelves. Cupboards below the shelves held everything else Melantha would need, from bandages to surgical instruments. An exam table stood in the center of the room.

Two skylights angled toward the south beamed what little weak, winter sunlight was available, giving Melantha as much natural light as possible.

The white and green elf ear mug sat on the countertop, filled with peppermint sticks. Both the mug and the candy were a favorite among Melantha’s child patients—and a few of the adults as well, though the warriors would never admit it.

The troll female patient turned back to Melantha and gave her a bow, then bowed again to Rharreth as she passed.

Rharreth strode into the room, giving nods to the two trolls left in the waiting room as he joined Melantha. “Are you almost done for the day?”

“Almost. Let me check on these two, and then I will be finished.” Melantha gestured to the two trolls, a male with a gash in his arm and a female troll who stared down at her hands. “They have been waiting so patiently for me. I do not want to turn them away.”

“Of course.” Rharreth pressed a kiss to her forehead before he joined Zavni and Vriska leaning against the wall in the corner. He nodded to each of them. “Thank you for so diligently guarding her.”

“It is my honor, Your Majesty, and the least that I owe both of you.” Vriska dropped her gaze, rubbing her hand against the hilt of her sword.

“You proved your loyalty in feeding us the information on Drurvas and keeping Zavni and Eyvindur alive when they were captured.” Rharreth needed no lingering guilt to drive Vriska to hold herself back. He had so few left of his shield band. He had to depend on those who remained.

“And I am eternally grateful.” Zavni dropped an arm around Vriska’s shoulders, grinning. “I rather like being alive, thank you very much. After all, I am eager to see the long overdue changes that Rharreth and his queen make to Kostaria.”

“A little at a time.” Rharreth shook his head, watching as the final patient entered the room as the previous patient left, a smile on his face and his healed arm now swinging at his side.

The emphasis on war and conquest had started during Rharreth’s grandfather’s time over a hundred years ago. And the hatred of the elves went much deeper, ingrained after centuries of animosity ever since the elves and trolls had severed their kinship. Healing would not happen in an instant. Perhaps it might not even be fully accomplished in Rharreth’s lifetime.

But as he watched the last patient exit the room with Melantha behind her, Rharreth had hope that with his elf queen at his side, together they could heal Kostaria and build it into a kingdom of worth and honor.

Melantha strode to Rharreth, her steps light. The bitter lines that had been dug so deep into her face had smoothed out, replaced with laughter and smiles. “I am all finished.”

“Ready for some time in the arena?” Rharreth placed his hand on her lower back, steering her toward the door. Zavni and Vriska fell into step behind him.

They navigated the passageways of Khagniorth until they reached the training arena. In the cavernous space, Eyvindur and Brynjar were already sparring with their swords, though they stopped as Rharreth, Melantha, Zavni, and Vriska entered.

Rharreth strolled down the steps down the tiered gallery until he and Melantha stepped onto the sand floor of the combat arena.

The four remaining members of his shield band gathered around them. Zavni turned to Melantha with a solemn expression rather than his normal grin. “Queen Melantha, we have been talking, and we have decided to make you an honorary member of our shield band.”