“How’s your arm?” Henric asked softly from the foot of her bed.

  The South Hall was filled with pained moans and their echoes. Megan pulled her blanket up close with her good arm. The afternoon sun was creeping higher and higher up the far wall, and it was getting colder.

  “Ardas says it’s broken,” she said. When the statue of Henric’s father exploded, a small part of his chest broke off and snapped the bone in her right arm. “But I feel alright.”

  “True,” said Henric absently. He was looking over his shoulder at a few of the other cots. The Count of Limos lay unconscious a few beds over. His injuries had been far worse than hers had been, and a large piece of the statue had lodged itself in his chest. Ardas, the Aldrimar’s old steward had already removed the biggest chunks, and was now cleaning out the smallest bits from the wound.

  She brushed her left hand against his thigh. “Henric, it’s not your fault.”

  “Isn’t it?” he said. “That explosion was supposed to get me. Everyone else is collateral damage, and I’m fine.”

  “Nonsense,” said Megan.

  “Someone’s trying to kill me Megan,” he said. She didn’t remember the last time she’d seen him this scared. Or angry. The look in his green eyes said he wanted to hurt someone, or to cry. “I’ve been lucky so far. But every time I leave the castle someone has tried to kill me.”

  “Nobody but a god can make a statue do that,” said Megan. “And if that’s the case, then they’re definitely not trying to kill you.”

  “That’s not necessarily true,” said Ardas. He poured out a large brass basin into a tub, and filled it with fresh water from another. “There’s old priests that know how to break stone like that.”

  “Old priests?” asked Henric. “You don’t know how they did it, do you Ardas?”

  “Can’t say I do Master Henric,” said the steward as he pulled a few clean rags off the rack and walked back to his patient. “And leave that poor girl alone, she needs rest.”

  Henric was sitting quietly, staring blankly past the floor. He always looked that way when his head was in the clouds somewhere, even when they were kids.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  “Hey,” said Megan. “What is it?” She knew better than to ask if ‘everything was alright’.

  “Nothing,” said Henric. “I’ve just been trying to figure out how he did it. I think I need to talk with my uncle.”

  “Oh,” said Megan.

  He stood, and turned to the bed beside Megan’s where his sister lay sleeping.

  “If she wakes up, let her know I was here,” he said.

  Megan nodded. “I will.”

  “Thanks. Get some rest.”

  After Henric left, she really did try to rest. It came easy, and she was soon fast asleep and far away. She was standing on the balcony again, looking out from the palace ballroom over the city of Zael. From there they could watch the ships and their nightfires move through the bay with moonlight in their sails. Antoine stood beside her, telling her some story and grinning that handsome smile that wasn’t really for her.

  She heard a scream of pain echo out across the bay, and then another, until soon it seemed as though the whole city was aflame. But when she looked at Antoine he was still smiling, still laughing.

  Megan woke shortly after sundown. She looked to her right, saw that Beth had already left, and decided she was feeling well enough to be escorted home. The chamber was kept warm by the low fires lit in the hearths, but besides the bright light of both moons, it was dark and there were no servants on hand. Careful not to jostle her arm, she stood. Even through the wool socks, the stone floor was cold to the touch, and she quickly skipped her way out into the hallway.

  “Hello,” she said. “Is anyone there?”

  Perhaps it they were all at supper. She wondered if Mathev and Father had gone home yet, or if they had stayed in the castle the evening meal. If they’d already gone, it might be better for her to find one of the extra rooms and lay down for the night. Anywhere was better than in Ardas’ makeshift infirmary.

  She could hear voices from the Great Hall, and stopped by it’s balcony to see if they her family might still be there. It looked like it was the servants dinner, because she couldn’t see her father or any of the Aldrimars, but it seemed like half the castle’s garrison was below, eating. She could feel her stomach aching at the smells of bread and pork and wine, and decided bed could wait.

  As the door to the Great Hall shut behind her, the hallway was almost creepily silent. She thought she heard something off in the distance, some noise coming from the east tower.

  “Hello?” she called, making her way over to the tower stairs.

  There it was again. It sound like someone shouting. That sounded like Henric!

  “Guards!”

  This time it was unmistakable. Henric was definitely in the tower, and he was definitely in trouble. Without a second thought she ran back to the balcony door and barged it open with her left shoulder. It made a loud clack against the stone work on the other side, and some of the diners were already looking around when she appeared at the banister.

  “Guards!” she shouted. “Quickly, Master Henric is calling for guards in the East Tower!”