We were in the infirmary now.Tucked in the east wing of the Fairy Palace, it was quiet and cool, lit by soft golden light from the now setting sun filtering through stained-glass windows. Pale stone walls held shelves of glowing potions and gently swaying herbs. Silverleaf ivy crept along the corners, its faint glow pulsing with enchantments.
A row of bonewood beds lined the chamber, set beneath a domed ceiling stitched with threads of starlight—old magic woven into the palace itself. Gossamer curtains shimmered around each bed, laced with protective spells. Silver runes glowed faintly on the floor, ready to catch curses or hidden poisons.
The air smelled of crushed herbs and magic. No machines. No metal. Just silence, warmth, and the soft shimmer of healing spells in the air.
Scarlette, myself, and the guard who had carried Lumera stood inside.
"Place her on the bed," I ordered.
He laid her down gently, then stood at attention."Ready for your next instructions, Your Majesty."
