Shards of Silver

TWENTY-THREE

"How is Aerelle doing?" Isren asked Yuravie and Calvan as soon as they entered the infirmary. She was finishing her job of wrapping her arms and hands with bandages, having just finished taking a desperately needed shower. Her wet hair still clung to her tunic and the back of her neck, down and out of its daily braid.

"Better," Calvan answered. He sat across from her, getting to work on his own wounds, having washed up quickly apparently.

"She just needs rest. Today's activities were too much for her body to handle," Yuravie stated as she stared at the two of them. "I can heal those for you."

"Actually," Isren started as she observed the white bandages against her skin. "I want to have these. They-They're a reminder."

"Of the competition? Congratulations, by the way," Yuravie complimented.

Isren nodded her head in thanks. Calvan smiled at her.

"Neither of you have eaten dinner yet, have you? You might want to go to the kitchen now before they lock the doors," Yuravie suggested.

"We will. Thanks." Calvan replied. Yuravie bowed her head and left the room, the door shutting close behind her.

"Congratulations," Calvan whispered to her as she passed him the bandages.

"Thank you. Jealous? You seem like the kind of person who would relish the victory."

Calvan laughed, shaking his head. "Not really. I don't like having the spotlight."

Isren shrugged. "That makes two of us then." She smiled, regardless.

"But those wounds aren't considered a victory from the competition, are they?"

The smile on Isren's face froze. "I thought I was getting better at my mask."

"You are, it's just I know that whatever happened between you and Axel made you really heated in that fight. I'm glad that you released some of that tension though."

Isren abruptly stood up. "Let's go to the kitchen. I'm pretty sure Rieta is waiting on us." She went on ahead first, not really knowing what to say. Calvan didn't push her.

-----

"Congratulations!" Rieta yelled happily even as she wrung a wet rag in her hands. She was the only scullery maid left in the kitchen, cleaning, and scrubbing until everything had a shine.

"You already heard?" Isren asked.

"News travels fast in this castle. Especially gossip. That's all that the maids and servants talk about anyway." Rieta set the rag in the sink, clearly done with her work.

"Any gossip worth knowing?"

"Well, it's not gossip. King Naerian is sick. It was officially announced today at dinner that he was sick and in bed." Rieta stated.

"What is the Court doing about it?" Isren asked as she pulled out a chair and sat down. Calvan wandered into the kitchen, closing the servant's door behind him.

"Where have you been, boy? I was afraid I wouldn't be able to congratulate you before I left."

Calvan smiled sheepishly. The tips of his ears turned red in embarrassment. Calvan, the elf who was usually so demanding and serious, was blushing. It wasn't even the first time Isren had seen him blush, but the fact that he got so flustered so easily amused her.

"Anyways, the Court is in semi-chaos. Chranis is taking charge since he is the King's right-hand man."

"Is he happy about that?" Isren asked. Rieta gave her a weird look. "Being in charge, I mean."