Queen Sylvia. She's... magnificent.
The Queen of Healing possessed beauty that transcended physical features. Every gesture radiated compassion.
Every step spoke of a purpose larger than herself.
When she moved toward a row of beds containing injured soldiers, the very air seemed to brighten.
"Tell me about the pain," Sylvia said, kneeling beside a young man whose leg had been shattered in three places.
Such gentleness. Even her voice carries healing.
The soldier—barely eighteen by Jasmine's estimate—tried to speak through gritted teeth. "It burns, Your Majesty. Like fire inside the bone."
Sylvia placed her hands above the injury without touching. Golden light flowed from her palms, but this wasn't ordinary healing magic. Jasmine's perception caught details that would escape normal observation.
She's not just mending the bone. She's rebuilding the entire nervous structure.
"Breathe with me," Sylvia instructed. "Let the pain flow out with each exhale."
