“She's awake," the healer whispered as Alvin entered the infirmary.
He paused at the threshold.
Frey sat propped against the wall, skin pale but glowing faintly in the moonlight pouring through the open window. The silver in her veins pulsed less violently now. Her eyes met his.
“You brought the antidote," she said softly.
“You drank it."
“I didn't think I'd wake up."
“I didn't think I'd want you to."
They stared at each other in quiet acknowledgment of everything unsaid.
Finally, Alvin pulled up a stool and sat beside her.
“You mumbled names while you slept," he said.
Her lashes lowered. “I remember."
“Reyna. Varg. Mother. Brother."
She nodded.
“I looked them up," he added. “In the Silver Court genealogies."
Her silence said everything.
“You're Princess Frey Silverheart."
