Corbin stared at him as though Dorian had just admitted his greatest secret. "Are yousureyou don't want me to stay?" he asked again.
"No, I'm... I'm good," Dorian replied.
The door closed behind Corbin with a final nod, and Dorian slumped forward onto his stomach on the floor. The cold stone wrapped around his bare skin as it had in the nights before, and he felt the mix of the tonic and nyghtfire drown his thoughts.
CHAPTER THIRTY
"WOW, YOU ARE achild," Reverie argued to Dorian. "Have you never been injured before?"
She was helping Dorian the afternoon after his trial to redress his bandages, having told the surgeon she knew her way around healing and could manage. Dorian was sure she just wanted the chance to torture him.
"Many times," Dorian replied as he squirmed beneath her touch. "Broken ribs, my sister cut my side open once, I broke my foot trying to show off on the cliffs, multiple canonstinger injuries. Nyssa actually broke my nose a couple of times—“
"At this point, I think you're exaggerating," she drawled.
"I'm not."
"Are all your injuries from your sister?"
Dorian thought about it. "Most of them—ow!" he flinched when she touched his bruised rib. "Don't they teach bedside manners at Scindo?"
Her eyes widened, and she looked like she would laugh. "You aresucha spoiled Prince," she mocked him. "How is it you've had so many injuries, and you're this poor with healing?"
"Usually, all I have to do is go sit in my mother's pool," he answered. "Takes a few times for larger wounds, but for the most part, I'm healed in a day or so."
"You're telling me you've never had to deal with lengthy injuries because your mother healed all of them?"
"Her waters, but yes."
"Fucking Infi, you're spoiled," she muttered for the third time. "How exactly do you think you're surviving this war without knowing how to deal with injuries?"
"By taking their heads first," he said almost as though it were obvious.
To this, she laughed. "You're going to die quicker than I thought.”
"That's why I have you," he argued. "To protect me, so I don't have to deal with this." He winced with the words when she cleaned the gash at his hip. It stung his skin, and he gritted his teeth. For a flash, he saw his fingertips blacken, but he kept it under control.
Reverie saw it too. It didn’t seem to bother her, for she continued wiping him, only slower from then on. "I thought you were dying yesterday," she admitted.
Dorian sighed and surrendered against the wall. "So did I," he said.
"Did Hagen tell you what happened? In the stands? I know he's been to see you."
"He didn’t—or he wouldn't rather," he replied. "Why? Were people rioting because I killed their beast?"
"Prince, I saw people kneeling."
"Why would they do that?"
She shrugged and started dripping a potion onto the wound, making him squirm, but he tried to keep the shudder to himself.
"I wondered the same thing until Katla told me who that beast was. That the only other person to go up against and survive was Mons himself."
"Doesn't mean anything," Dorian managed. "It nearly took my head. Twice. I got lucky."
"I think it was more than that," she told him.
He eyed her. "Don't tell me you buy into that 'Lesser One favoring' talk," he grunted.
