Phoebe's POV
I spent my time in the infirmary immersed in medical texts, drawn to the knowledge they contained. Every page bore notes from Marcela and Helen, evidence they'd studied these volumes repeatedly.
"You need rest, my lady," Marcela said, finding me buried in another book. She'd urged me to sleep, but I ignored her pleas.
Instead, I peppered her with questions about medicinal herbs. The subject fascinated me. Too bad I wasn't a healer—I lacked any healing abilities.
When I finally returned to my bedroom that night, something felt off.
The silence seemed heavier. The bed looked too vast.
I'd grown accustomed to Perry sharing my bed during his illness. Now, staring at the empty space, loneliness crept through me like a chill.
Would he visit tonight? He'd come several nights running before this.
Or maybe palace business would keep him away. Too occupied to spare time for me...
