“Valerian,” she said.
He ignored her and moved in front of Broderick.
Broderick kneeled, bowed his head. “What should we do about Joachim, my king? Say our goodbyes?”
Valerian still didn’t want Joachim to die, and banishment would get him killed in a hurry.
He searched for the females among the crowd. “Is there a healer among you?”
After a pause, Shivawn’s silent, black-haired wench stepped forward. Tears glistened in her eyes as she raised a tentative hand.
Excellent. “Take Joachim and the healer to the sick room,” he told Broderick. “She’s to bandage him up and nothing more. Make sure she doesn’t touch him sexually.” If she did, Joachim would heal speedily, his injuries forgotten far too soon.
Broderick nodded and stood.
Now. Time to see to his woman.
Without another word, Valerian clasped her hand and tugged her from the arena.
They were meant to be together—and now he would prove it.
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