A heavy, suffocating silence hung over the King’s private sanctuary as Valeria’s eyelids fluttered open. The blinding golden vortex that had consumed her mind in the Frost-Bite Ravine had entirely receded, leaving behind a deep, hollow ache in her muscles. She blinked against the dim, amber firelight of the hearth, realizing she was tucked safely beneath the plush fur blankets of King Kaelen’s massive bed.
Beside her, the elderly chief healer, Martha, moved with frantic speed. Her wrinkled hands were not preparing medicine; instead, she was frantically pulling a high collar of thick silk over Valeria's neck.
"Do not move, child," Martha whispered urgently, her voice a sharp, terrified hiss that made Valeria instantly lock her muscles.
"Martha... what happened to me?" Valeria gasped, her
