Lucianna forced herself to let go of Finn’s hand. Wren stepped back to allow her husband to move. The prince pushed his arms under his cousin’s limp body. The movement pulled on Finn’s shirt, and that was when Lucianna noticed the damp stain on the fabric. Castien noticed it too and paused. Gently, he set Finn back down on the deck and slowly pulled away the soiled linen. 

A pained gasp caught in Lucianna’s throat. Blood and infection were smeared around inflamed, poorly done stitches. 

When had he been injured? How long had he been hiding this? And why? 

Wren’s hand covered her mouth. Castien’s face went pale. His gaze rose to the captain, whose expression was somber. 

“Lothyda,” the prince rasped. 

Panic tore through Lucianna like a blade through a sail. 

No. No, he could not be in this position because of her. 

“Quickly. We must move quickly,” Castien barked, his tone taking on a sense of urgency that had Lucianna scrambling to her feet.

———

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