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Melantha knelt on the edge of the wagon and reached forward, her fingers glowing green. As soon as she touched the girl’s forehead, Melantha’s face twisted, as if in pain. She squeezed her eyes shut, the glow around her fingers strengthening.

Rharreth crouched next to Melantha, reaching for her but stopping short of touching her. He was not sure what to do, and he saw the same helplessness mirrored in the mother’s eyes.

Melantha shuddered, her breathing growing ragged. A bead of sweat formed along her hairline.

But, the child’s spasming calmed, the pallor under her gray skin retreating to a healthier glow.

When Melantha withdrew her hand, she sagged, and this time Rharreth didn’t hesitate. He caught her by the shoulders, steadying her as she sucked in deep breaths.

After a moment, Melantha turned to the woman. “Your daughter is stabilized, for now. But you will need to get some food into her soon. My magic will keep her alive for only so long.”

“Thank you, my lady. Thank you.” The troll woman hugged her daughter, tears pouring down her face freely.

Rharreth felt the weight as Zavni set a sack of food into his outstretched palm. Rharreth held out the food. “This will help.”

The woman took it, clutching it to her. “Thank you, Sire.”

“Make sure to cook the grain into a mash for your daughter. Give her only small portions at first. Her body will need time to adjust to receiving nourishment. Actually, could you give it back to me for a moment?”

It was a sign of the woman’s trust in Melantha that she gave the precious food back.

Melantha opened the sack, then her fingers glowed green once again. She stuck her hand inside, and green light shone from the bag. After a moment, she closed the sack again and held it out to the woman. “I infused the grain with my magic. It will help both you and your daughter regain your strength.”

The woman bobbed a bow to each of them, then hurried off.

As the next person stepped into line, Rharreth motioned for Zavni to see to them. Rharreth tugged Melantha to her feet and studied her face. “I did not know you could put your magic into food.”

“We healers can infuse anything that was once a plant with healing properties. It is part of the close tie shared between healing magic and growing magic.” Melantha gave a small shrug, then glanced over the crowd once again. “I just infused it with a little bit. It is nothing harmful, I assure you.”

“I did not think it was.” Rharreth struggled to find the words. He had married her for peace. He had wanted peace for the food Escarland could provide. But he had not believed that she would use her magic on behalf of his people. How could he, knowing little of how the elven healing worked, even imagine all that Melantha could do with her magic?

Between the trade for food that she brought and her power, she was more capable of saving Kostaria than he had even dreamed she was.

And he was not sure how to go about telling her that without making her mad at him.

Melantha strolled backto the stronghold on Rharreth’s arm as the darkness of night blanketed the mountains and city despite the fact that it was not yet late. Lamp posts stood along the streets, the candles burning inside them providing some light to the streets. More light spilled from the windows of the houses they passed.

She gritted her teeth and kept her mask in place. That day, handing out the food, had been unexpected. The mix of anger and deep hurt that she had seen in the trolls had resonated inside Melantha’s chest. Perhaps because it was the same thing she felt every day. Seething anger covering a festering pain that she could not heal even with her magic.

She could not heal herself, but something in her stirred to want to heal this people. Back in Tarenhiel, there were so many healers of various strengths, that her magic had just seemed useless and redundant. But here in Kostaria, she was the only healer in the entire kingdom.

But she had not wanted to be a healer, had she? Then why had the fire inside her cooled when she had healed that troll child?

The fire returned when she glanced at Rharreth at her side. He had been so attentive. Giving her those warm looks, almost like he found something to respect about her.

And yet, that could not be the case. Otherwise he never would have left her behind in the first place. He would not have done his best to ignore her for the past few days.

When they reached the stronghold, Rharreth asked a servant to bring a tray with supper, then he led Melantha through the passageways. By the time they reached their room, Melantha was one word away from boiling over.

As soon as the door shut behind him, Rharreth turned to face her, leaving space between them. “I promised that we would talk later.”

“Yes, you did.” Melantha swallowed back the heat, keeping her mask in place. She was an elven princess. An elven princess was serene. Calm. Not a roiling, seething, barely contained explosion.

Rharreth studied her face. “Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?” Melantha clasped her hands gracefully in front of her.

“Hide your true thoughts and feelings like that.” Rharreth’s deep blue eyes searched her face. “I have seen your fire. You don’t have to hide it.”