"Welcome back, Mr Amares," Ayden greeted as the healer stepped into the infirmary, a bright smile on his face.
"Thank you, Ayden. Finally…" Rafe sighed deeply. "A place where I can actually rest."
He promptly dropped onto an empty treatment bed, dragged a pillow into his arms, and inhaled it with a satisfied hum. The familiar scent of herbs and medicine eased his shoulders as he closed his eyes.
The assistant opened his mouth to scold him—then stopped.
Dark shadows lay beneath the healer's eyes, deeper than usual. Ayden pressed his lips together and returned to his work instead.
He continued updating the ledger and checking the medicine shelves. Several jars were running low, so a new batch would need to be prepared soon.
"Ayden," Rafe muttered without opening his eyes, "I can't sleep. Can you give me some dwale?"
"That is an anaesthetic, not a sleeping draught," Ayden replied flatly. "And using it for rest alone is against healer protocol."
"Tch. Fine," Rafe sighed. "Then tell me a story. About anything. Your boring lectures usually put me right to sleep."
He yawned, shoulders slumping, exhaustion evident despite his inability to rest.
Once the inventory was finished, Ayden slid the ledger into the drawer, pulled out a chair, and sat opposite him. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"Actually," he said, eyes brightening, "I've been meaning to tell you something interesting."
Rafe adjusted himself at once, placing the pillow beneath his head and folding his hands over his chest. "If this is about another potion—fine. That'll do."
"No. It's about the commander's wife."
The healer cracked one eye open. "Her? I saw her earlier. She looks remarkably well. You did excellent work in my absence."
"You went to the commander's tent?" the assistant healer asked, brow arching.
"No. I witnessed quite the spectacle outside," Rafe chuckled. "She ran to him, crying the moment we arrived."
Ayden nodded knowingly. "I'm not surprised. She was miserable after he left. Took some effort to turn her mindset around."
"What did you do?" Rafe asked, intrigued, but closing his eyes again.
"Oh, nothing drastic," the assistant healer replied smugly. "I merely suggested that the commander might not keep her at his side if she failed to recover."
The healer's eyes flew open. "You told her that?"
"Of course not!" Ayden protested. "I implied it. Carefully."
Rafe stared at him with a questioning look.
"She wouldn't eat properly, wouldn't rest well, and refused her medicine," Ayden added. "I had to intervene."
Rafe laughed softly and lay back down. His apprentice had learned quickly—perhaps too well.
"You know," Ayden continued, "I don't think she's an ordinary woman."
"Oh?" the healer replied lazily.
"She asked me to teach her. I lent her books on remedies, but she said she'd already read them all."
"So she's literate," Rafe shrugged. "That's hardly unusual."
"That's not the interesting part," Ayden said, raising a finger. "The thing is… she could recall them in remarkable detail."
"Ardelians are well-educated in medicine," the healer said mildly. "She might have been exposed to them."
"Then I gave her your book on plagues and diseases."
Rafe shot upright. "You did what?! "That's one of my most precious books!"
"She claimed she'd already read it, too. Up to volume three."
"That's impossible!" the healer snapped. "She can't have read that! I even had a hard time smuggling volume one out of the university's library myself!"
"She explained the addendum in volume three when I tested her," Ayden said calmly. "Everything matched your book with extended information."
Rafe fell silent.
That collection was rare—restricted to the Medical University of Engarth. Ayden wouldn't claim such a thing without proof.
"…Is she a practising healer?" Rafe asked slowly.
"No. She said she was an orphan who spent her childhood reading. "She grew genuinely animated whenever we spoke about books."
"An orphan wouldn't have access to such knowledge," Rafe muttered.
"And she understands military and administration," Ayden added.
Rafe frowned. "How?"
"She understood immediately why the commander went to Dracor and explained the reasoning with the precision of someone well-versed in such affairs," the assistant said, before recounting Anna's explanation in careful detail, nearly word for word.
Rafe's eyes narrowed. "That's not common knowledge. How did she find out?"
"She said she read it before."
"…Interesting," the healer murmured.
A quiet suspicion stirred within him. "Do you think she's a spy?"
"I doubt it," Ayden replied. "A spy would not compromise herself so completely, nor place herself, injured and exposed, within a knight's encampment."
Rafe nodded. He knew her condition well. No spy survives by gambling her life, and no intelligence service would field someone so helpless.
"There's more," the assistant added.
"Do tell."
"She's fluent in Arbs, Malis, and ancient Ro'an—and I'm currently studying old Ro'an under her."
Rafe stared, eyes widening. "You're joking."
"I wish I were."
The healer let out a short laugh. "So you're her student now? That's a turn."
Ayden grinned. "Apparently. She's sharp, well-read, and carries herself like nobility. Scholar and aristocrat—it's a rare combination."
"Yet she ran barefoot, crying to her husband," the healer mused. "Hardly refined behaviour."
"She was composed every other day," the assistant countered. "I think she simply missed her husband."
"Strange attachment for two people who barely know each other," Rafe frowned.
"Well… the commander didn't treat her with indifference," Ayden countered. "For a man who once refused every advance, he was remarkably receptive toward his wife. They looked close and comfortable with one another."
Rafe recalled the night Kyren had rejected the notion of marriage, then the way he had carried her today—unhesitating, gentle, protective. The contrast was striking, as though affection had taken root where there had once been distance.
"…Could she be royalty?" he murmured, his thoughts turning to Anna's origins.
But Ardel had only a crown prince—common knowledge to anyone who had spent time in the kingdom, as he had.
Ayden shook his head. "I don't know. She never said as much. But I like her, royalty or not."
The healer smiled faintly, intrigue settling in.
One thing was clear to him—whoever Kyren Raychard had taken as a wife, she was anything but ordinary.