POV: Kaelira
I did not move my hand.
I told myself it was because moving it would wake him, that he needed rest, that disturbing him was the last thing a sensible person would do when a man had a silver blade pulled out of his ribs less than two hours ago, and none of those reasons were untrue; they were just not the whole truth.
I was too tired to examine the rest of it, so I left my hand where it was and stayed in the chair beside his bed as the palace settled into the night around us.
The healers came and went through the dark hours, checking, adjusting, speaking to each other in low voices that they lowered further when they noticed I was listening, which I always was.
"How long? I asked the senior healer the second time he came through.
"The silver is clearing," he said carefull
