Aurelia examined the wound further as Asher instructed her, leaning this way and that in an effort to see it more clearly in the limited light. It wasn’t a simple task - in the moonlight, the wound was just a wet, glistening black mess - but she eventually did see a glint of silver, and sure enough she found two, three, four of the points of the broadhead. The bolt must have worked itself out during the flight, as the points of it and a little of the shaft were wet with blood, but the task seemed simple enough. 

A shiver worked its way up her spine as she looked closer, noting how the tissue moved and pulsed with each of Asher’s breaths and heartbeats. Gingerly, she took hold of the shaft, careful to avoid the part wet with blood. She was taking a second to prepare herself when Asher spoke up again, accusing her of pushing Willa out the window. 

A familiar, simmering displeasure returned to her, and her eyes narrowed. “You will watch that familiar tone with me,” she warned. Emboldened by her new distaste, she gripped the bolt and pulled in one quick motion; a sickening [i]squelch[/i] signified its release, a few globs of blood and other matter flying off the tip of the broadhead as she flicked it dismissively into the brush.  

She wandered back around Asher and leveled her gaze on the half-breed over her shoulder, eyes cold. "She'd be worthless to kidnappers. I didn't want to have to worry about her."

What she said was true, but there was more to it than that. True, kidnappers or bandits would see no value in Willa. However, what held no value could be broken and thrown away without a qualm; she would have hated to see Willa ravaged or killed for the high crime of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

She turned away and looked out into the darkness inland, hiding the expression of worry that settled on her face. She could only hope Willa had made it to the garrison; she would probably never know, and the uncertainty would drive her mad if she thought too hard about it. 

Her anger and adrenaline having faded - for now - she wrung her hands together in a rare anxious display and was immediately reminded of her own injuries; her right hand stung with every motion. She hissed and turned back toward Asher, where the moonlight would allow her to see the damage.

There was a long slice along the length of her palm where the glass had bit into her, and matching cuts on the insides of her thumb and fingers, each bleeding persistently. Each flex of her hand felt like the glass was cutting her anew, painfully reopening the cut with every movement. 

Aurelia didn't really know what to do about it, so she settled for clenching her fist in an attempt to staunch the bleeding, cradling her hand close to her chest. She made a mental note to carry a knife of some kind in the future, so she wouldn't have to resort to glass should the situation arise that she would need to defend herself again. Speaking of which...

She turned back to Asher, some of that former fire sparking once more in her eyes. "So, [i]King's Champion[/i], disregarding for the moment exactly [i]how[/i] these unfortunate circumstances came to be, what now? Surely you've planned for an outcome such as this, what with my life and those of my father's men having been trusted to your [i]capable[/i] hands." 

Her tone was inquisitive, but every word dripped with poisonous sarcasm. Her relief and gratitude at being saved had faded to deep-seated ire at having been put in the position to need saving in the first place. Had the half-breed not been sent to prevent this very scenario from ever occurring? They'd been loading that damned ship all day, at a standstill in a busy port city where people from every country on the Inland Sea could be slithering about and what, they hadn't been prepared for an attack? In Aurelia's mind, her party had either been unprepared or overwhelmed. Both options, to her, circled back to a fault somewhere on the half-breed's part, and her eyes bored a hole in that helm of his as she awaited his reply.