DRAKENFELL INFIRMARY - ROYAL PRIVATE CHAMBER 1A
The door opened.
Fin walked in carrying Serena and every other thought in Dexmon's head evaporated.
Dexmon Drakenfell was off the bed in an instant. He had been losing his mind for the better part of thirty minutes. He should have been in that chamber when she appeared. Instead, he was up HERE, bandaged, ordered to the infirmary by his own father like a cadet who scraped his knee at training, while Serena was fighting for her life on a volcano he couldn't reach.
His stab wounds were screaming at him with every pivot. He was ignoring them with the practiced ease of a man whose body had filed complaints before and whose complaints had never once been acknowledged by management.
