Page 129 of A Court of Thralls and Thorns

“I am, but he broke several ribs; it takes time for me to repair several injuries.”

“He was subtle. I didn’t realize he had hurt you that bad.”

Zander’s arm stayed firm around my waist as he led me across the courtyard, weaving through the pathways that wound through the Yarrow Gardens. The air was rich with the scent of damp earth and wild blooms, the soft whisper of leaves brushing against one another. The garden stretched beyond what I’d realized before—neat rows of herbs lined the pathways, but wild clusters of yarrow spilled across the stones, threading golden blooms along the edges like tangled lace.

We reached a wooden door nestled beneath an arch of ivy. Zander pushed it open without knocking, stepping aside to let me pass. The warm scent of salves and dried flowers filled the air, and the space inside was serene—a sanctuary away from the chaos outside.

“You’ll be fine with Meri,” Zander said softly. His fingers lingered on my arm a moment longer than necessary before he stepped back. “I’ll be back shortly.”

I didn’t get a chance to thank him before he turned and left.

“Sit here,” a gentle voice said. I turned to see the young woman, no older than me, who had helped us on the beach and the Ascension Grounds. Her copper curls were pulled into a loose braid. Her soft brown eyes were warm and welcoming.

I eased onto the cushioned bench, and she knelt beside me, her fingers brushing lightly over my ribs. A gentle warmth spread from her touch, and the sharp sting dulled almost instantly.

“You know,” she said softly, “most of those cuts wouldn’t have been so bad if you had focused on healing.”

I snorted. “I was a little distracted by the attempted murder.”

Her lips twitched, but her focus remained on her work. “Fair enough.”

I glanced back toward the gardens. “I didn’t realize the yarrow had spread so far.”

“Oh, that’s a healer legend,” Meri said, voice brightening. “The first healer planted a small patch of yarrow when the castle was built. It was meant to stay in one small corner, but it spread everywhere. The gardeners tried to control it at first, but the healers refused to let them. They said it was a symbol.”

“A symbol of what?”

“Resilience,” Meri said simply. “It grows no matter how often it’s cut back. Stronger every time. That’s why the gardens are so large.”

I let my gaze drift out the window. Resilience. I didn’t feel particularly strong right now.

“There.” Meri sat back, her fingers lingering over my ribs as warmth spread through me once more. “Your bruises will fade by morning.”

“Thanks,” I said, surprised at how much better I felt. “You’re good at this.”

Meri tilted her head thoughtfully. “Actually... I think you are too.”

I frowned. “What?”

“I could feel it,” she said quietly. “While I was healing you. Your magic... it reached for mine.” Her eyes searched mine with something like curiosity. “You have innate healing ability.”

I hesitated. “Yeah.”

Meri’s expression softened. “It’s in your blood then,” she said, matter-of-factly. “That happens.”

I stiffened. “What happens?”

“Some people born with healing magic can heal with their blood.” She paused. “It’s rare... but powerful.”

My stomach knotted. “Good to know.”

“But that’s forbidden,” she said, lowering her voice. “We’re not allowed to?—”

“Heal with our blood,” I cut in quickly.

Her eyes flicked around the room before she leaned closer, her white healer’s robe brushing against my arm. “It’s part of our protocols. I’m just a cadet—I don’t know why those rules were written.”

I forced a smile. “Thanks for telling me.”