It was impossible to guess how much time had passed by because the sky was perpetually dark, but when the man who had been helping her – she learned that his name was Gilly – gently shook her awake, the camp was already breaking up. “Are you feeling alright, miss?” he asked, to which she nodded in response. He didn’t say anything more, and instead proceeded with his next task.

Ysabel checked herself. She was still breathing, which was a good sign, plus she wasn’t feeling nauseous anymore, but the cold to her was unbearable. Her body shook on intervals, and she clamped her teeth closed to stop them from chattering. She pulled her cloak tight around her and slowly got up. That was when she realized that she was wrong about the nausea. Instinctively, her gloved hand covered her mouth and she breathed long deep breaths.

The man she healed, Rannor, was already conscious. He had mounted a horse and was sitting with his back straight and an arm sling to limit the movements of his injury. She met his dark eyes, but his expression was unreadable, partly because of the beard that had grown thick. Was he thankful? Did they tell him how she got him healed?

Ysabel was guided to a horse by the Winter Children’s healer. “You are going to ride with me,” he declared in a tone of voice that wouldn’t honor any objection. “Greymount wanted the pleasure of riding with a woman, but both he and you in one horse will exhaust the animal. Besides,” he turned around and pushed back her hood. The cold wind bit on her skin sending shivers down her body. Ysabel immediately tugged it in place and hugged herself to conserve body heat. Whatever Derrin was about to say was lost. 

“I – I’m n-n-n-ot feeling w-well,” she stammered. “Fever.”

Derrin shrugged and helped her up the horse. “We don’t have enough supplies,” he explained to her. “So you will have to wait until we are back in Cannor. Fevers are not uncommon and it is very unlikely that you will die because of it.” He smiled up at her then mounted. “It’s more likely that you might die on Greymount’s sword because of your impudent tongue and his infamous temper.”

He might have heard the short conversation she had with Greymount. However, before she could answer, Fraym gave the signal and the riders wasted no time and galloped into the night, leaving the three on foot.

*******

The riding party arrived at Cannor before the sun was up. It was a long hard ride without a pause, which made Ysabel feel sore. She had slept through most f the journey, allowing her body to shut down and rest as it fought against the infection in her bloodstream. This was the reason why she missed the view of Cannor from the mountain pass. 

When she woke up again, the horses were already inside the gate and Derrin was nudging her. “If I were you, I will take advantage of the fatigue we older men are feeling right now and sleep as much as I can. At dawn, I predict that no matter how sick you are, you will…”

“Derrin,” Olivere called, walking towards them. As it seemed, Derrin and her were the last of the riders to arrive. Ysabel saw the Fraym was right behind Olivere. No matter what happened, they should not know about what really healed Rannor.

Derrin dismounted from his horse and helped her down. She was feeling a bit better, at least, she wasn’t dizzy and her head was a clearer. They were met by Olivere and Fraym. The others, including the intimidating Greymount had already dispersed, while the ones who were on foot were not yet expected to arrive any time soon. “We have prepared a room for you for the night,” said Fraym. “Sleep well. We will see you in the morning.”

She was dismissed just like that. Olivere and Derrin walked with her to the empty room, although it was a younger orphan who really led the way. The room was a simple square space with a single bed, a table and a closet. The window was high and narrow and the walls and floor were gray. It reminded her of a prison cell, except that it was clean and dry.

“Somebody will guard the door,” Derrin told her before leaving. “For your safety and to make sure you don’t run away. Have some rest.”

She was definitely a prisoner. They were just polite enough not to throw her in the dungeon, perhaps because of the favor she did for one of their brothers. But even thinking was exhausting her. She needed her strength that her passive magic was using up as it healed her body. Banishing all worries, she crawled to the bed and almost instantly fell asleep.