Page 131 of Fate's Wicked Oath

At least it’d distracted him from how sorely he missed Mariana. He couldn’t stop thinking about the bruises and scars that covered her body, wondering how many Heris had inflicted. Faren knew she could take care of herself, but she shouldn’thave to, and his mind had no trouble conjuring up all manner of horrifying imaginings about what she was currently facing without him. His physical pain was nothing compared to the torture of worrying about her and doing nothing.

But he wasn’t doingnothing, he reminded himself.

Their plan could still work. It had to. He trusted her, and she trusted him. He would see her again—he was sure of it—and when the moment came, they would not fight as enemies, but side by side as allies. He had to keep his hopes up—for both their sakes.

None of that would happen, however, if he didn’tget out of this fucking sickbed.

The click of a door latch echoed throughout the empty hall, alerting him of the healer’s return. “Finally,” he muttered.

His bed was one in a long row of beds that lined the shiny marble floor, with pale blue privacy curtains hanging around each one. The castle infirmary had been empty when he’d hobbled in, but the healer had drawn his curtain closed anyway, and now he stared at the drapery with mild resentment. The purple hue of dusk was already dimming across the surface of the thin material.

“How much longer will this take?” Faren called out. “I have matters to attend to.”

Footsteps snapped on the marble in a rapid approach. Three pairs of heavy boots, none of which belonged to his soft-slippered healer.

“Fuck,” Faren mouthed.

With his leg still propped up, he leaned out of bed, reaching for his swords, which rested on a chair with his armor just beyond the bedside table. His fingers had barely tickled Honor’s cross guard before the curtain was yanked back.

“What a sorry sight,” Shae tisked. “Put the sword away, please. You look pitiful.”

Faren sat up straight, allowing the weapon to tip onto the floor with a clatter. “Fates, Shae, announce yourself next time.”

Warner and Lee crowded in behind her, the three of them gathering around the foot of Faren’s bed.

“Did the infirmary run out of pants?” Warner lifted his hand as if to block the sight of Faren’s bare legs.

“At least he’s wearing underwear,” Lee remarked.

Warner snickered. “I’m not sure Shae’s delicate sensibilities could’ve handled any further state of undress.”

Shae rolled her eyes, then made a grabbing motion at Warner. “Pay up.”

With a scowl, Warner fished around in his pocket and flicked her a single gold coin.

“You made bets on my return?” Faren asked.

“We made bets about whether youwouldreturn,” Shae said.

Faren made a face at Warner. “I appreciate your confidence.”

“I didn’t bet her you’d die, I bet her you’d run away with Mariana,” Warner said.

Faren scoffed, trying to hide how close Warner had been to the truth.

“How in the Fates are you, Faren?” Lee said, coming round the side of the bed to inspect his leg. “Fuck, that looks terrible. Crossbow?” He leaned in, his beaklike nose wrinkling. “Looks like you were hit with a hunting bolt, that’s lucky.”

“I feel truly blessed,” Faren said flatly.

Lee patted his shoulder. “If it’d been a barbed tip, your leg would be in far worse shape, trust me.”

“Couldn’t dodge a fucking crossbow?” Shae chided. “Don’t you practice that maneuver with Lee all the time?”

“You don’t see a bolt sticking out of my neck, do you?”

Shae laughed. “Aside from the hole in your leg, how was it? Tell us everything.”

“Tell us this, first: did you at leastfuckMariana?” Warner procured another coin from his pocket and gave it a toss, catching it in his palm.