Chapter 27 · Gareth's Wedding Offer

"Easy." A woman's voice, right next to her ear. "You tore two stitches already."

Eliza's eyes snapped open. Carved ceiling. Gold trim. Silk sheets under her palms. Wrong. All of it wrong.

"Where—" Pain ripped through her shoulder and ribs like the arrows were still in. She gasped, fell back against the pillows.

A healer in gray robes sat by the bed, threading a needle. The expensive kind. The kind who worked for people with estates and private guards.

"The Ironcrown guest wing," the healer said. "You've been out two days. Don't move."

Eliza looked down. Clean linen nightgown. Bandages wrapped tight around her shoulder, ribs, thigh. Someone had washed the blood out of her hair. Her weapons were gone. Her boots were gone.

"Where's Valen?"

The healer's face went blank. "I don't know who that is."

"Liar." Eliza swung her legs over the edge of the bed. The room tilted hard. She grabbed the bedpost, held on until the floor stopped spinning. "I need to see him."

"You need to not rip yourself open." The healer stood, hands out like Eliza was a spooked animal. "Lord Gareth's waiting in the sitting room. He'll answer your questions.