Ashlynn was already moving when Sir Elgon started shouting about Devlin's injuries.
She crossed the corridor in four quick strides, the cavalier hat's feather sweeping behind her, and knelt beside Devlin without hesitation. Elgon shifted to make room, his blood-covered hands hovering uselessly at his sides as he watched the woman he'd known since she was a child reach for the sailor who had served her family faithfully for more than two decades.
Devlin's eyes found Ashlynn's face, and for a moment, something like recognition flickered in the glassy depths. His lips moved, but no sound came out except a wet, rattling exhale that sent a thin mist of pink into the cold air.
"Be still," Ashlynn said and placed both hands over the wound.
