AVIONA'S POV
As King Faelan had promised, the healer arrived the next morning.
I was still sitting by the window, finishing the last bite of my breakfast, when a knock sounded at the door. The king rose to answer it, and a tall, slender man with dark hair stepped inside, followed by a young servant carrying a polished case that gleamed in the morning light—no doubt filled with vials of herbs and potions.
“Ser Thamiel,” King Faelan said from behind me.
The healer bowed deeply. “Your Majesty.” His gaze flickered to me—just once—before dropping again. “Is there a concern, my king?”
King Faelan gestured toward me. “She took a fall yesterday,” he said. “I want you to examine her.”
Ser Thamiel inclined his head and stepped closer without quite meeting my eyes. “She is still in pain?” he as
