Wildas woke feeling more rested than he had in a while, and completely pain-free.

Coulta had said he'd be pain-free for one day. Then he'd die. He'd bleed to death. Tomorrow.

He struggled against the blankets covering him, panicking. A firm hand almost immediately pressed down on his shoulder, making him fight even harder.

"Calm down! You're safe! We got you the counter-poison in time!"

Wildas stopped struggling and took a good look at the person holding him. The young woman wasn't one of the usual court healers, but she looked vaguely familiar. "Myri?" he asked, attempting to grasp the hazy memories of the last few days. She certainly looked like the younger healer from Windwick.

She nodded, smiling fleetingly. "They allowed me to heal you because I had the other ingredients." There was a pointed cough from somewhere behind her and she removed her hand from his shoulder. "Under guard, of course," she grumbled.

Wildas looked around her and noted with relief that he was in his own bedchamber. He also saw a member of the Royal Guard standing by the door, just removing his hand from his sword hilt. Wildas gestured to him and said, "Don't worry about her. I need to speak to the Second King."

The Guardsman bowed, though he cast a hesitant glance at Myri. "Yes, Your Highness," he finally said before leaving.

"Where's Coulta?" Wildas asked Myri. "And wasn't someone else with us?"

The healer nodded, pulling her tangled black hair to one side of her face. "Anil was allowed to take care of the horses we brought from Windwick. I don't know where she is now. Coulta..." She took a deep breath and the pause filled Wildas with dread. "They arrested him. He didn't fight them, so I think he must be safe. I assume they wouldn't do anything to him before you could speak for him."

Wildas let out a heavy breath. "No, they wouldn't. Not if he went willingly. But why?"

Myri shook her head. "I don't know. It happened as soon as we arrived."

"How long ago?"

She glanced out the window. "We arrived just after dusk. It's late morning now."

The Second King arrived then, and looked surprised to see Myri trying to give him a passable curtsy. "Did you stay here all night?" he asked.

Myri nodded. "Yes, Your Majesty."

"It's 'Highness'," he corrected patiently. "Only the Grand King is 'Majesty'. Keeps the court from getting fussy."

"I apologize."

Shelton waved a hand. "It's not that important at the moment."

A servant entered carrying a tray, and only then did Wildas realize how hungry he was. After not eating in days, he thought he might even eat the core of the apple that was resting beside the plate of meat and eggs. The boy bowed after he set the tray down on the bedside table, but before he could go, Shelton stopped him.

"Thank you. Could you also show this healer to a guest room?"

"There are no guest rooms prepared, Your Highness," the boy stammered.

"Then, please show her to a guest room, start a fire in the hearth, and ensure that it promptly prepared. See that she is given breakfast, hot bath water, and a few sets of clothing."

The boy bowed. "I will, Your Highness." Turning to Myri he said, "Please, come with me."

She gave the Second King a curtsy and thanked him before she followed the servant to the door.

"You didn't tell me you were bringing more than one person with you," Shelton said, settling in the seat Myri had vacated near the bed. "Your brother wasn't as prepared for your arrival as he could have been."

"Is that why the person who saved my life is in the dungeon?" Wildas questioned, sitting up carefully. He felt weaker than ever.

"Rohan is taking his new role very seriously. And, considering you were unconscious and he was armed, it was what I would have done. Eat and explain to me who these companions of yours are."

Wildas was more than happy to pull the tray onto his lap, but he took a long drink of the tea he'd been given first. Finally, he sighed and set the cup back on the table. "I wasn't expecting to bring Myri or Anil. They both joined us in Windwick. Myri's mother is the healer we went to, hoping she could make the counter-poison. Anil was working in the public stables. Varin sent a group of men after us. I don't know how many. At least fifty, I would guess. They were killing and burning everything. Myri's mother made her go with us when we fled the village, and this was hours after I spoke to you. I was trying to get some rest before the journey home, because the pain was almost bearable then. We brought Anil because Coulta needed help with the horses."

"And who exactly is Coulta? What is he?"

Wildas played with the apple in his hands, suddenly not as hungry as he had been. "You need to talk to him yourself. Just know that he saved my life multiple times and that I trust him."

Shelton gazed at him with skeptical violet eyes. "I take it he didn't join you in Windwick."

"He saved my life in Arren first," Wildas agreed with a nod. "Just speak to him. I know you won't judge him too quickly. Where's Anil?"

"She was given a room at the stables with the grooms. I can arrange for her to have a guest room here if you would like. I will need to determine how safe this Coulta is, but the women can stay as long as you want them to."

Wildas nodded. "At least a few days so they can rest. I don't know if there is anything left of Windwick, though."

Shelton nodded grimly. "I'll find out. I'll also arrange for them to be paid for their assistance."

"Thank you. And I want to talk to Coulta after you do."

"Your father will want to speak to you first."

Wildas shook his head. "I don't want to see him yet. He'll just tell me how stupid I am for whatever I did, then tell me that as soon as I can get out of bed I have to get married."

Shelton sighed. "He won't let you avoid him forever."

"He had better let me avoid him for today, because I don't want to hear his complaints at the moment."

"I'll advise him against intruding on your bed rest, but I doubt he'll give you more than today."

Wildas knew Shelton was correct, but he didn't care. He didn't need to be scolded like a child quite yet. He wanted to rest and try not to think of what he had been through.

Or the fact that the comforting shadow figure in his fevered, pain-filled dreams had started to look a lot like Coulta.

The clanging of the cell door woke Coulta with a jolt, not that he'd been sleeping all that well.

"Get up," the red-clad guard in the doorway ordered. "You're to be questioned."

Coulta got unsteadily to his feet, noting with annoyance that his whole body was numb from the cold stone. The guard fixed the manacles on him again, then led him down a torch-lit hallway to another room. The guard stepped away, and Coulta didn't have time to wonder why before a bucket of cold water was dumped over his head. Sputtering from the shock, Coulta braced himself as more water was thrown on him. Someone probably got strange joy when they emptied a bucket of icy water directly against his groin, too.

"What's going on?" a sharp voice demanded.

No more water came, but Coulta couldn't stop himself from shivering as he dripped on the stone floor.

"Just doing what we were told, Your Highness."

"I said let him have a bath, not soak him in cold water. Were you even going to offer him dry clothes, or make him stand out in the sun for an hour? I thought as much. Idiots. Get towels before I make you wish you'd listened better."

It was only moments before a guard handed Coulta a towel, which Coulta awkwardly rubbed over his rough face and hair.

"Take off the damn manacles, I'm sure I can control him if I have to."

A guard removed them, though he didn't look very happy about it, then handed Coulta a fresh towel. He used it to soak up the water in his clothes as best he could, and when he looked up he found a middle-aged man in a purple robe standing in front of him. He looked Coulta over for a moment in the darkness, then stepped toward the door.

"Come with me."

Coulta tried not to shiver as he followed. They didn't step outside as he had hoped, however, just wove through a maze of corridors and staircases until they entered a neatly organized office.

"Stand by the fire."

Coulta obeyed, thankful for the warmth, regardless of what was about to happen. Why was this man going to question him? Surely Wildas hadn't died, had he? Coulta was sure they had made it to Ryal in time, but what if the herb they had needed wasn't to be found?

For a long moment the man just stared at Coulta, which was unsettling, especially because the man's eyes were an unnatural shade of violet. Coulta took a few uncertain glances around the room, taking in the walls of bookshelves and what looked to be potions. There was even a shelf of stones that ranged from dull and uninteresting to what looked like very large gemstones.

"Wildas says you saved his life."

Coulta looked back at the man. "He's recovered?"

"He'll likely need a few days of bed rest, but yes." The man gave him a suspicious look. "Did you not expect him to recover?"

Coulta shook his head. "I knew if he got the counter-poison in time, he would, but I didn't know if the Dragonweed was found."

"I managed to find some." The man leaned against a desk that was neatly stacked with papers. "I apologize for your mistreatment, but Prince-General Rohan wasn't sure he could trust you when you didn't identify yourself as a member of the Royal Guard. He had assumed anyone with Wildas would be a fellow Guardsman who survived whatever happened in Arren."

"No one survived Arren. None of the soldiers, I mean."

"But Wildas did. Explain to me exactly who you are. I can feel something dark hovering over you. I can tell that you aren't evil, but you have the feeling of someone who could be. You feel haunted, dark. Death has surrounded you for years, but you have never chosen such a life for yourself. I want to understand this shadow at your back – need to understand it before I can let you leave this room."

Coulta instinctively reached for his sword belt and the letter he had tucked into the small pocket inside it years ago. But of course he didn't have his belt. The soldiers had taken it from him the night before. Taking a deep breath, he explained the contents of the letter instead. This time, he didn't leave out what his mother had foreseen.

"Varin used the curse to turn me into an assassin," he finally concluded. "I didn't want to kill, but I could never fight it. If I tried, it was almost as if my body acted on its own. Until I was told to kill Wildas."

"Did you kill his Guardsmen?"

"No," Coulta quickly explained. "That was Varin's other assassin, Roane. I was planning to do anything I could to not kill Wildas or his men, but Roane stepped in on my job. By the time I knew he was there, he had already killed everyone else."

"But you broke Varin's control?"

"Somehow, Wildas has more power over me. As soon as I swore to him that I'd bring him to Ryal, the need to serve Varin was gone. I assume because he is a prince."

The other man looked at him for a long time, clearly thinking and trying to decide what it all meant. Finally, he sighed. "Unfortunately, you are dangerous. It would be unwise to have you wandering freely all over Phelin, if there is someone out there who has more power over you than Wildas. There's no saying what anyone else would do with someone in your position. There are others, like Varin, who would see you as a weapon and not a man. I suggest you make another vow to serve Wildas, if you only promised to bring him home previously. Be careful of your wording. Does Wildas know about the curse?"

Coulta nodded.

"So he understands. I don't think he would ever take advantage of you, unless the poison had a drastic effect on him."

"It shouldn't have. I've unfortunately witnessed its effects."

The man nodded and stood straight once more. "Wildas wants to see you, but I suggest a bath and some food first. I'll have a servant show you to your room. You'll be near the others you arrived with, for now. I'll be sure to have more clothes sent to you, as well."

"My weapons?" Coulta ventured.

"I'll have those returned to you as soon as I can. Do I have permission to find and read that letter?"

Coulta nodded. "Yes. Could I ask one thing?"

"Certainly."

"Who are you?"

The man smiled. "Second King Shelton."

Coulta quickly bowed like he had done countless times to Varin. "I apologize, my lord. I didn't know."

"I didn't expect you to," the Second King replied, still smiling. "Come, let's get you settled. I'll make sure someone takes you to see Wildas in a couple of hours."

"Thank you."

Shelton paused halfway to the door and returned to the desk, where he took something from a drawer and handed it to Coulta. Taking it, Coulta saw it was a black velvet pouch that fit perfectly in his hand. And it was heavy.

"He'll work out a price with you if you plan to serve him from this point forward," the Second King explained. "That is for bringing him home."

Coulta was stunned. "I don't need –"

"How else do you expect to buy the things you will need in order to live here and work for Wildas?"

Coulta nodded reluctantly. "Thank you."

He supposed he could get used to living and working for the royal family. There were certainly worse people he could work for. Experience had shown him that.