““Tessla? Are you all right?” “He’s sick,” I choke out, the floodgates suddenly flung wide open, a storm of emotion coursing through me. “Wren’s sick. He’s been sick a long time.” “I know,” Vale says. He sets the cat down and looks at me closely. “The Red Grippe. I left orders for my family’s physician to tend to him. Fain will make sure he’s given Obsythian tonic this week.” All the blood drains from my face, and I stagger down until I’m sitting on the floor. He’ll be cured of it. Just like that. He’ll live. “Tessla?” I bring my hand to my eyes, overtaken by a staggering relief. “Oh, Ancient One. Vale. Thank you so much. Oh, Ancient One. Thank you.” “We’re fasted, Tessla,” he says, his voice low and gentle, tinged with confusion. “Of course I’d do anything for you.” His noble sentiment and kindness send shockwaves through me. I cry hot tears of overwhelming gratitude into my hand.””
