Davien lay on the bed, his father holding his arms above his head while his legs thrashed weakly, as though in feeble protest. Davien was still screaming, but no sound came out of his lips. His mouth just hung open and the pain he felt was as clear as day.
Beads of sweat covered his forehead and face, and it was hard to tell whether the water around his eyes was tears or sweat. A strong smell of rot permeated the air. It was so overwhelming that Bel needed a second to catch her breath.
Her heart tore at the scene in front of her. She couldn't comprehend what was happening, and for a moment, she forgot what she was supposed to do.
"Princess," King Draco called. "Can you heal him?" He looked distressed and one would think he was the one in pain.
