Nusayel watched as the healer's cerulean glow faded from Selvienne's forehead. The harsh lines of pain that had marred her face softened; her breathing steadied into the slow rhythm of deep rest. For the first time since the messengers arrived or those nightmares started, she looked peaceful.
Good. At least one of us can escape this nightmare, even if only in sleep.
He almost missed it—the single bead of sweat tracing the healer's temple, the faint tremor in his fingers as he withdrew them. The boy's eyelids fluttered open, revealing irises like fractured sapphires before he schooled his expression back into calm.
"She's stable," the healer said, rising. "Rest is what she needs most now. However…" He hesitated. "The shock may resurface again. So I advise avoiding overwhelming her with strong emotions when she wakes."
