The healers had tried several times to persuade the king to rest, but each attempt had been met with the same quiet refusal. In the end they had simply allowed him to remain where he stood beside the bed.
His presence both a silent comfort and a reminder of the gravity surrounding the injured guard lying before them.
Valen had not moved since the previous night, her breathing had grown steadier under the careful watch of the healers, and the color had slowly begun to return to her face after hours of treatment, she remained lost in a deep, unresponsive sleep that no one had been able to break.
Kaelvryn stood near the bedside, his arms folded loosely though tension still lingered in every line of his posture.
His dark hair fell slightly over his eyes, a sign of how little attention he had given to his appearance since the moment she had collapsed in the courtyard.
