Loste and I stayed mostly silent throughout the rest of the trip back to the palace. It wasn’t a long walk, and even holding me in her arms the guardswoman made excellent time, stepping swiftly across the slick stones of the cliffside road.

The whole of the palace grounds was well-lit by a combination of pixie lamps and salamander patches, keeping the mists away from the imposing stone buildings that made up my home of the past twenty-five years. It was impossible to set foot in the palace without knowing that while it had not seen war in centuries, these buildings were built for withstanding a siege. No amount of delicate tapestries, elegant mosaics and expensive furniture could disguise the martial history of my mother’s seat.

We made our way towards the low building standing near the eastern side of the grounds, Loste cutting through the questions and protests of the guards stationed at the gate with a simple bark of, “Her Highness is injured. I’m bringing her to the Baron.”

No one argued with her after that, giving way before us like the tides receding. I say we made our way, but Loste still refused to let me walk despite my having offered multiple times on our extremely awkward journey up the final stretch of road. So every guard on duty that night, as well as anyone who might have been looking out one of the palace’s many glass windows at an inopportune time, was treated to the sight of their crown princess being carried delicately across the threshold like a blushing bride in one of Mina’s raunchy novels.

The threshold in question belonged to the Faliol Wing, one of the many side buildings on the grounds besides the palace proper. Named after my great-great-grandmothers draconic partner, the Wing housed the infirmary and nursery and was thus aligned with Galena, the Lady of the East in purpose as well as location. The whole palace grounds were designed with cardinality in mind, even if sometimes the associations were difficult to truly parse. I still hadn’t figured out why the guards barracks were aligned most closely with Cheros, God of Fish, but I’m sure some priest back when the last time the place was rebuilt had a really good theological explanation.

Metaphysical matters aside, I was in a lot of pain by the time Loste set me gently down on the infirmary bed in the room that had been set aside for my use. My ice cast courtesy of Xax had mostly melted from the salamander heat on the way up, and my broken arm was unsupported by anything save the gentle pressure I was applying with my left hand. Baron Quescol, the palace physician clucked over me disapprovingly.

“You’ve certainly made a mess of yourself again haven’t you.” It wasn’t a question.

“In my defense… Actually wait no I don’t have a defense. You’re right. Please fix me.”

“All in due time. Have you forgotten all your lessons Evariste? I’d thought you were a better student than that.”

I sighed but couldn’t fight back a small smile. When I was younger I decided I wanted to be a healer when I grew up. Of course I knew that I was a princess and that I would be queen after my mother, but those two thoughts didn’t seem particularly incompatible to my young mind. Neither did it seem incompatible that before doctor, I’d wanted to be a potter, and a rector, and an academic, and so on. Mother indulged my childish fancies and prevailed upon her staff to support me in my ambitions. Some had taken to it better than others. While Rector Myko had begrudgingly instructed me in the basics of cardinal and ordinal theory, Quescol had taken to having an annoying child underneath his wing remarkably well. He was perfectly willing to talk through his process as he treated everything from guardsmen with minor cuts from training to the Nescian Ambassador’s heart attack when I was nine. A cynic might think that he simply liked the sound of his own voice a little too much, but I think he was simply happy to be teaching someone who wanted to learn.

“Diagnosis before treatment, I remember.” I pointed to my broken arm. “My arm is fucked up. Diagnosis done.”

He looked down at me over the lenses of his thick glasses. Healers could fix many ailments with magic, but Caduceus Snakes just did not understand human eyes, no matter how many lectures on ophthalmology they sat through.

“Charming.” The Baron felt gently at my arm, tutting sympathetically at my ensuing wince. “Seems to be a closed fracture, and the bones are barely shifted out of place. I make it a transverse break. Siel, thoughts?”

A pair of glowing yellow eyes set in a serpentine head almost as large as my own rose up into my view from below the bed. Siel, Baron Quescol’s bonded partner and my own co-instructor as a child, flicked his tongue out several times, tasting the nature of my pain. He turned his uptilted nose to meet my eyes.

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“Not funny Siel.”

The Caduceus Snake slithered up the side of the bed and onto my chest, bringing his bright yellow eyes mere inches away from my own.

“Four actually, depending on how you count!” called Quescol without turning away from the assortment of tools he was examining. “Technically three this actual month, but there was that duel with what’s-his-name on the twenty-seventh last month, and it’s been less than a month since then.”

“Let’s be real, Si. A few weeks of not being allowed to fight will just make me even more reckless as soon as I’m free.”

Siel chuckled mentally as the Baron let out a loud “Ha!” from over by his tools.

Loste cleared her throat. The Baron, the giant snake and I all turned our heads to look at her. She’d been silently standing in one corner (North-East, aligned with Besol of a Thousand Faces, my brain helpfully provided. Thinking about my childhood had apparently brought some of Rector Myko’s reluctant lessons to the front of my mind), almost completely motionless since she’d deposited me gently on the infirmary bed. I’d completely forgotten about her. From their reactions, Quescol and Siel might not ever have noticed her in the first place.

“Oh my, excuse us,” said the Baron, clearing his own throat awkwardly. “You must be the guard who brought dear Ris in. Did you have something to ask?”

She walked over to my bedside, offering a polite bow to the healers, human and serpent alike. I could have sworn that she bent to the exact same degree down to the arcminute both times. “While I applaud the intent behind your idea, Healer Siel, I’m afraid that I must request that Her Highness be healed immediately. She was injured in a public venue, and there are political concerns to be taken into account.” She paused reluctantly before adding, “And I would be reluctant to place the princess in a position where she is unable to defend herself. Her own capacity as a fighter is taken into account in her protection.”

I almost couldn’t believe my ears. Was that a compliment from Emily Loste? After all she’d seen and said tonight, even praise that had clearly cost her something to drag out was a surprise.

“Ah,” said Quescol. “Yes of course. We would never compromise the princess’ health. We were, of course, only joking. Weren’t we Siel?”

He held his nose up high in an imitation of the pompous expression so often found on my noble peers' faces, as if they were too good to smell the muck beneath their feet. On a person-sized snake it looked absolutely hilarious.

“No harm done gentleman. However, I do believe that the queen will wish to speak to Princess Evariste quickly, and I also gather that she is in no small amount of pain. Would you perhaps be able to begin healing her soon?”

“Oh gods above and below, Ris I am terribly sorry. I got somewhat caught up in the bit. A real comedy duo, Si and I. Poor excuse for healers though.” He knelt by the bedside and grasped my broken arm firmly in both hands.

Siel brought his nose down to brush against the length of my arm, positioned on the opposite side of the bed from his friend and partner.

“I will be bringing your bones back into alignment, where Siel will heal them into place. It’s extremely important that we make sure they are in their proper place, or else future complications might result. Do you understand?”

Good old Quescol. Always a teacher, even to his patients. “Yes, I understand.”

“Good. On three then, Si. One. Two. Three!” He pushed just slightly and I felt the scrape of bone against bone as the fractured pieces slipped back into place. It was painful in a way that felt wrong, an unclean sort of pain that made me sick to my stomach. Bones are absolutely not supposed to do that.

True to his word, barely a moment later, Siel opened his mouth wide and revealed a pair of glowing green fangs which he swiftly sunk into my arm. The fangs themselves were spectral, a magical construct by which the Caduceus Snakes exercised their healing capacity. After only a few moments, they retracted and he opened his mouth and pulled away.

“Thank you,” I said, voice cracking just a bit on the first word. It was so nice to not be in pain after what had ended up being a really terrible evening. Like always, the Caduceus magic left my arm slightly numb and tingly, like I’d slept on it the wrong way, but I knew that would fade soon enough.

“Our pleasure, Ris,” said the Baron, patting me lightly on the shoulder before helping me lift myself back up into a seated position. “Do come by for a visit soon, preferably without an injury next time?”

I laughed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Loste walked up to the bedside and offered me a hand up, face stony and unreadable. I took her hand with my newly healed right arm and pulled myself to my feet. Not even a twinge of pain remained.

“For now, though, it’s time to explain myself to Mother." I laughed again, no humor in my voice this time. "You might even get that visit sooner than you think"