Okay, sneak peek of chapter 14 of BLOOD STAINS CRIMSON because I love you people and want you to forgive me for putting this off
Aneira stepped closer, her guilt like a grace note amidst the composition. "I’m sorry…"
Zara's hand, a calming chord, rested upon Aneira's shoulder. "Compassion, dear one, is a melody that graces the harshest of storms. When healing, we must deal with suffering. You have a compassionate heart, child. It's a gift, especially in this line of work. Just remember, healing isn't just about treating wounds. It's about understanding pain and suffering, and doing what we can to ease it."
"Then why does that man's mirror the face of a doe before a hunt?" The deep voice, an unexpected timbre, pierced the room's cadence.
Zara's retort was caught in the crosshairs of their king's gaze, his quirked eyebrow a playful crescendo to her indignation.
As the king's presence had broken the sanctity of the almshouse , Zara replied, thoroughly annoyed . "Ah, your Grace, you honor our humble composition with your regal entrance."
Aneira's wide-eyed wonder met the king's gaze, a gentle harmony of innocence and your Grace. She had met him once before. But, his aura made her stare every time.
“Aneira, stop staring. It’s rude,” Zara said. It was less of it being rude, and more of the fact that his aura seemed to command respect.
“Hello, Aneira.”
The king's smile, a rhapsody of mirth, rippled through the air. His eyes met Zara’s again, "It seems the overture of healing has been overpowered by an unexpected audience."
Zara's voice, a dance of wit, returned the banter. "Indeed, your Grace.”
With a single look, the king's leer dissolved, leaving Zara's own smile fading into silence—a note in the opus of a royal encounter.
“Almshouse humor, I suppose. Not very appreciated by healers, is it?” he asked, sheepishly.