The walls of a healer’s ward were witness to vows that held more truth than wedding vows. The walls of the witch’s ward were no different as Marion stood vigil at Eris’ bedside. Hours melted away with the silver scales and time came to have no meaning. Each moment passed in seconds and minutes that went uncounted. The only tell of time was the rise and fall of the prince’s chest. What had been only a day felt like a lifetime to Marion.

Even Ulysses had come to relax, no longer ...