Over the next few hours, Donil and her team administered aid to the injured.
"How is Veralosa?" Lindsay asked from her mat as Donil came by. "And Nol?" She couldn't stop thinking about the siblings. She wanted to rest but every time she closed her eyes, she saw Nol's terrified face as she stabbed herself, or Veralosa standing, covered in his own blood, swaying back and forth as his wrist gushed golden.
Donil looked at her dispassionately. "Turn over, let me see the burns on your back."
She did as she was told, wincing as Donil's gentle hands applied the salve. "They aren't ok, are they?"
Donil shook her head, adding more salve to her hands, and rubbing it over the backs of Lindsay's legs. It felt so cool on her burns. They weren't bad, not as bad as they could have been. She hadn't even noticed when they happened. But Donil insisted she get treatment.
"Nol... will probably make it through the night. She's strong."
"But Veralosa...?" She was afraid to hear the answer.
"He'll live, but I had to take his arm. If we'd just been closer to a medical unit, I could have saved it, I'm sure."
Lindsay reached for Donil's hand but only found her ankle. "You did the best you could. He's alive because of you."
"I know, but there are so many. There, you're done." Donil stood.
Lindsay was up a moment later. She rubbed her cheek against Donil's, softly, reassuringly, before looking her in the eye. "How many did we lose?" Lindsay asked.
"One hundred fifteen, but there's another thirty I don't think will survive the night," Donil answered.
"And them?"
"Eight hundred thirty." It was clear from Donil's face the high numbers brought her no joy.
"That's most of their forces," Lindsay remarked.
"I don't think they were fighters. At least half of them were true Nobillo."
Lindsay shook her head. It was a massacre. She couldn't feel proud of that. "How many did the prince kill?"
"Six."
"Only six?! But we saw him! He made them attack themselves! He cut a swath through us!"
Donil shrugged. "The wounds were bad, but most weren't fatal, blood loss has been the main killer. The majority of wounds were to the central chest area, where the Nobillo heart would be. I suppose he must not know Bonat physiology."
"I guess not. Lucky for us." But even as she said this, she remembered something Carak had said.
He'd told the prince Kadax's heart had failed, and the other would soon follow it. No, Rivuk knew about the two hearts of the Bonat. He must have! Then why didn't he make them kill themselves? Her mind swam with questions and theories, but none made any sense.
She walked down to Prince Rivuk's tent where Northeastern soldiers stood guard out front. "Has it been cleared of traps?" she asked.
"Yes," the guard answered.
"May I go in?"
An old Bonat man in Southeastern Shore orange and yellow clothes with long white braids that flowed from a knot at the back of his head poked his head out. "Of course, my queen, come in. We're just logging the items for transport, though, you'll find, there isn't much here."
"Thank you."
She entered the tent and was surprised to see how Spartan it was. The floor was mostly dirt and grass except for a large, circular white fur rug on which a wooden table sat, papers and maps covering the surface, a lamp that had the appearance of ivy with large fluted purple flowers on moveable stems sat in the corner.
She'd expected computers like in the palace. She smirked. "I guess they don't have Wi-Fi here," she joked to herself. In another corner was a round bed. It looked soft and was at least three times as large as the cots she'd gotten used to. They'd have to figure out who got it. She could, of course, claim it for herself, but she wasn't sure how she felt sleeping in his bed.
She noticed something directly behind the desk. It was a low wooden bookshelf painted a dull red. On it rested a few knick-knacks and a small vase holding yellow and white flowers. She'd never thought of Prince Rivuk as the type who would enjoy flowers. A wooden box on the second shelf caught her eye. She pulled it out.
"What is it?" the old Bonat man asked.
"It looks like a lock box of some kind. But it doesn't look like it has a lock..." She shook it gently. "It sounds empty." She placed it on the table and lifted the little metal flower-shaped latch.
"Be careful, my queen, it might be a trap."
She pulled on a pair of gloves and steeled herself, holding her breath. She opened it.
Inside, a small rectangle of parchment sat on dusky red velveteen. Written on it, in the finest English lettering, were the words: May I have this dance?
"Do you know what it says?" the old man asked.
Lindsay held the parchment in her hand. She began shaking. She fell to the ground, where she sat, shuddering, vaguely aware her husband's name was being shouted. It had been real. He'd promised he would prove it. And she'd... she'd... With the Third Prince of the Nobillo! Maybe not truly in body, but in mind as real as body.
She felt Sirix's arms wrap around her, heard his voice banishing everyone from the room, but she didn't want to feel his touch. Not right now. What would he think if she told him? Donil was one thing, but this was a Nobillo prince!
She felt dirty. Like she'd done the unforgivable. And he probably would forgive it. He'd call it mind control; tell her it was a dream - either way that it was beyond her rational control.
But she knew. She remembered how real it felt. How she'd even questioned it as it was happening. She'd made the choice, choosing to believe it was wholly a figment of her imagination though she'd known it likely wasn't, though Rivuk had maintained the entire time it wasn't.
She'd been frustrated and he was attractive, the dream was an excuse. It was a stupid choice, but she'd made it. And hadn't she always known it was real? Why else would she have kissed him? How else would she have known that would work?
And she told Sirix. She told him everything. She watched his heart break, though she could see in his eyes he didn't truly blame her. And she let him take her to the bed and hold her and kiss her until she finally began to kiss him back. And she spread her legs, allowing him to kneel down between them. And she came for him, again and again and again, until he rose from between her legs and embraced her sweating, shaking body with his own. He nuzzled her cheeks and neck.
Finally, he looked down, into her brown eyes, and spoke. "Indsayee, you would have killed him for hurting me."
She blinked, staring into those gilded indigo orbs that still shone with love, though she couldn't see how. "I would have. If Veralosa had better aim."
His shoulders began to shake. His head bowed and his eyes closed. She heard just the lowest sound from his lips. He was laughing!
"It's not funny! Sirix, I cheated on you!"
"I'm sorry, but you never did actually specify who it was you planned to be with - it was only my assumption that it would be Donil."
"But I hurt you!"
"Yes. I won't pretend you didn't. But you realize you seduced one of the most powerful men on the planet? My wife! And he's eating out of her hand! Stops just because she tells him to! And here I thought you were just settling with a field medic."
"You know, she's probably the best doctor on the planet."
Sirix laughed even harder. It took him a few minutes to calm down. He gazed at Lindsay seriously. "You understand, he could have killed us today. It would have been a massacre. And there would have been nothing - Nothing! - I could have done to stop him. I didn't know the power of the princes. Now that I do... I'm honestly terrified for my people. I don't know how we will survive them. If we have any play we can make with them, any advantage, we'll need to take it."
"Does that mean you want me to..." She swallowed hard. "To continue with him?"
