It was dark when I woke again, the sound of rain loud and persistent from outside my room. The air felt clammy, the kind of damp cold that gripped you with chilled and persistent fingers.

I laid still, eyes open but staring at the blackness of the ceiling. I took stock of my physical state, feeling the chaos of my mental state looming over me but choosing to ignore that for now. I was feverish, but lucid, the backlash milder than after the last Ceremony. Unsurprising, since I had only performed one Ceremony and not two in a row. My throat was raw, though, and my head throbbed. I couldn't feel my feet at all at first, which scared me for a moment, but after trying to move my legs for a few panicked moments a painful prickling started and sensation slowly returned. Huh. That was a first.

No use worrying about it now. I turned my head to look out the window, finally acknowledging the feeling that I had been unconscious for far longer than I could afford to have been, and was shocked to see... nothing. Where my window should be was only solid darkness.

Panic rose again. Had I gone blind? I raised an arm with difficulty, bringing my hand to my face, and saw the faint outline of my trembling fingers. Not blind. I stared hard at my hand, breathing slowly through my nose. Logic ticked sluggishly into motion in my exhausted mind. If I could see, but I could not see my window, then that must mean my window was not there.

Foolishly, I fretted. Who took it away? Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. I liked that window.

On second thought, perhaps 'lucid' was an overstatement.

Just as I was reconsidering my mental state, the blankness where my window should have been was pulled away and the sound of the rain grew louder. I blinked uncomprehendingly at the two figures who now occupied my window's place, backlit by a very faint light. One was very tall, bent slightly with an arm stretched out to hold up the wall. The other was shorter and slight, rushing forward toward me with light, familiar steps.

"Ia – no, S, Saintess!" Emilia's voice was clearly distressed, and the way she ran over to my bedside was almost possessive. At first, I felt like I was a small child again. I had the impulse to reach out to her but stopped when the other person dropped the wall – no, not a wall. Or yes? Canvas. I was – was this a tent?

I let my arm fall back to my side. Emilia's worried face came into view, and instead of warmth, I felt cold. I was not a child any more, and reaching out to Emilia had not brought me comfort for a very long time.

She was oblivious to my rapidly shifting feelings, fussing over a pitcher of water and gathering more blankets to drape over me. Her hand on my forehead felt cool. After checking my fever, she grew more flustered and frantic, fluttering over me like an overbearing bluebird in her priest's robes.

I slid my focus past her to the person still standing at the back of the tent. With the lamp lit, I could make out more than just their large frame. The soft, warm light of the oil lamp revealed tanned skin and dark hair. A trick of the light was also the only explanation for why the man's usually harsh features seemed hesitant and sheepish to me.

We made eye contact, and Captain Oesten took a half step forward. I felt nervous, but also relieved. If he was here, and not Kielan, did that mean – could it be that I was free?

"Saintess, drink this," Emilia interrupted my hopeful train of thought. Right. Emilia was still here. I did not know what was happening, but I was probably not free as long as someone from the temple stayed beside me. I drank the medicinal water she offered me, the sharp taste of herbs bitter and familiar.

I kept my eyes on the Captain, questioning him silently. He took a few more decisive steps forward.

"You are with the entourage and guards of Princess Rhiannon, including myself and the rest of the Second Company. We are two days ride outside of the temple, on the road towards the northern border. Your prophecy did not give a date, so a decision was made to travel immediately and join the rest of the Second Company on the way. Princess Rhiannon will depart with her attendants for the Capital when we reach –"

"Captain, the Saintess needs rest. It is highly inappropriate for you to even be here –"

I finally spoke. Or tried to – my voice splintered, and I was reduced to drinking another long swallow of medicinal water. Still, I had managed to cut off Emilia's misplaced tirade.

Looking apologetic, Captain Oesten waited for me to stop choking before speaking again. "Her Highness and I have taking turns visiting you. We felt it was best for one of us to explain the situation since you met us before. I –" he cleared his throat awkwardly – "I will go now to get the physician."

Physician? I had never been treated by anyone credited in medicine rather than temple healing, but before I could marvel at this aloud, he was gone.

"Uncouth man. Barging into a woman's tent, carrying that sword everywhere. Tsk."

I held back an angry retort. She could not possibly know how comforting it had been to see that 'uncouth man', awkward as he must have felt in coming.

"Emilia. I'm hungry."

That distracted her.

"Oh! I'll see if there's any way to get you some porridge. You need something warm..."

She bustled off, and with her went some of my lingering tension. This version of Emilia felt alien to me; it was familiar, like my faint memories of her caring for me when I was very small, but also so unfamiliar after over a decade of brusque indifference. I could not help but wonder if she was sincere, and hope that this was the 'real' her. No matter how much I wanted too ignore such useless thoughts, they persisted.

I stared at the ceiling, now lit with flickering shadows on pale green canvas. Imperial colors. The princess must have given me one of her tents. I did not dare think that was a kindness – I hoped it was, but I had no illusions that I had been brought out of the temple for nothing. I was now a part of an open political conflict, no longer locked away. I would need to work hard to keep my new allies happy. My chaotic sense of abandon from before was fading; what if they discovered my inadequacies and decided to abandon me before we could take down the temple? Just because we shared an enemy did not mean we had the same goals.

My exhausted mind swirling with anxiety and fear, I started to drift into an uneasy sleep. The impression of Captain Oesten's dark, concerned gaze lingered as my consciousness faded, but before I could completely fall asleep the tent opened again, this time bringing in four people. Emilia was at the lead, cradling a steaming bowl in her hands, and close behind her was a very short woman with tightly curled black hair and skin a shade darker than Princess Rhiannon’s. A few steps behind them followed Princess Rhiannon herself, accompanied by Captain Oesten.

Emilia placed herself protectively by beside and started to arrange things to give me the porridge when the unfamiliar woman stepped close to me and gestured for her to stop.

“Priestess, it is best if I can conduct my examination before she eats.” Emilia looked affronted, but before she could speak, the woman turned to me.

“I am Dr. Elia Mortona. I took care of the first princess when she was born, and now I work as a scholar and traveling physician. Do I have your permission to examine you, Saintess?”

My mind was blank with confusion.

“U- ummm – I don’t –“

The doctor looked at me calmly, her expression steady, waiting for me to gather my thoughts. When instead I trailed off into silence, she spoke again, her voice clear, informative, and, while not overtly kind, very comforting.

“I would have preferred to have examined you when you first fell unconscious, but I only just arrived here. I did my best to hurry at Her Highness’s request, but the journey was long. As you are not in any immediate crisis, I am asking for your consent to treatment. That would involve an interview to discuss your condition as well as a physical examination. Do you have experience with this sort of treatment, Saintess?”

That question I could understand and answer. My voice was steady when I spoke.

“No.”

I thought I saw the Princess and the Captain shift where they stood by the door, but it was unclear from where I was lying.

“I see. Then I think it is best we discuss your medical history first.”

I tensed, acutely aware of the people in the tent. Doctor Mortona smiled at me reassuringly. “The rest of you should leave. And you, priestess,” she looked at Emilia, who was standing nervously by my cot, the porridge forgotten, “before you go, please tell me exactly what is in the water there.”

While she was clearly off-balance, Emilia did not seem to have any intention of preventing the doctor from examining me. After listing off the herbs and amounts from the medicinal water, she left without complaint, trailing after the princess and the captain.

“Now, Saintess, how are you feeling at this moment?”

The interview and examination that followed were nothing like my past experiences with temple healers.  Healing was, in my previous experience, a callous and rushed affair. Often, if I was feeling ill, Priest Kielan would tell me to reflect on my impiety rather than call for any treatment. In contrast, this process was methodical and gentle. I quickly grew tired, and after what felt like a very long time but probably was not, Doctor Mortona told me I ought to drink some plain water and rest before eating.

“We will talk again when you wake up, Saintess.”

I was asleep almost before she finished talking.