Another small chirp sounds below my ear as the feel of a cool glass reaches my lips. Keane tips the water into my mouth, holding me steady even though I know he received a not so pleasant nip from the bird. I rub my eyes again and finally put my hands on the bed beneath me, pushing myself to a sit as I open them to a bright room.
The Prince is sitting in a chair next to the bed I’m on, his brown eyes watching me with deep concern. I glance to his unkempt hair that looks like its seen too many hands running through it in one sitting, then look to the angular plains of his face that are as hard as the fiercest Discerni. His features are sharp and tense, but his lips are soft and curve up in a sad smile. He looks at me as a concerned parent would to a child, and I’m not sure I like it.
“Please don’t,” I groan and sit up taller.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t look at me like a concerned father would.”
Keane gives a thick laugh, his brown eyes darting across my face as he shakes his head in surprised amusement.
“Concerned?” he asks, “yes.Always, Alexis. But Father? No…”
His playful eyes meet mine, causing my heart to skip a beat, “unless you’re into that kind of stuff.”
“Thereyouare,” I chuckle softly, watching as he sinks back into his chair in relief.
“I was asking about Millie,” I tell him, letting my eyes roam to the room around us.
It’s not the guest room I shared with Alanna but it’s still a decently sized room complete with a small desk, bathing chamber and a balcony. I spot a cot at the side of the bed just as Keane nods in response.
“Millie has been fine. Alanna got your note.”
I let out a deep breath. “Did you just call for the Prince and Princess?”
“I did,” he watches me intensely.
I look down at my body, to the now tattered gold satin shirt and the dirty tan riding pants hiding underneath the blankets. Someone has taken off my boots but I still look a proper mess, not to mention that I smell distinctly of campfire and wet mountain air.
“Can you hold that request?” I pull the blankets off and slowly swing my feet off the bed, “I need to wash first.”
Keane looks over me in assessment before nodding. He stands up and holds out his hands for me to take, carefully helping me up as I attempt to stand on shaking legs.
“Through that arch,” he juts his chin, “I’ll give you some privacy.”
“No,” I reply quickly, not letting go of his hold.
Keane looks down at me again, his brown eyes still assessing. Whatever he sees in my gaze makes him smile knowingly.
“Then I will hold the request and call for some water. I’ll meet you in there shortly.”
I let him pull away this time, watching as he walks towards the front door and gently opens it before bounding into the hall beyond. I notice in another corner of the room that my travel packs have been transferred here, the bags resting next to Keane’s in an open pairing anyone can see if they entered the room. I walk to my pack with a groan and pull out my spiced soap, every muscle in my body aching and sore.
The tub is filled when I reach it, its steam moving high into the cool air. I pull up a stool and drop a towel and my soap on top, then bend over with a grimace and slowly pull off my socks. My hands are no longer shaking but they do ache when I pull down my pants, leaving my gold shirt to fall loosely just above my bare thighs. Everything is sore, but when I hear Keane shift his weight at the archway behind me, I manage turn to him easily and with a smile.
He watches me, brown eyes darting to my knees that I know are severely bruised. He narrows in on the coloring, taking in the area before his eyes move past my thighs and up my shirt, to my jaw and the side of my face. I can feel the swelling there from my falls as well, no doubt what he’s looking at now.
“It is the sign of a Warrior to have scars and bruises covering their body,” he notes, slowly walking towards me, “they are respected, a sign of a battle well fought…”
Keane reaches for my face, gently resting his hand on the side of my jaw as his eyes narrow in a scowl. I watch as his brown gaze looks down at me with a new coldness I haven’t yet experienced, the sight of it sending a shiver up my spine.
“But in all my years spent in Warrior, you are the first woman to ever make me resent the bruising on your skin, Alexis. I resent the pain I know they will cause you.”
“I am not a child, Keane,” I give him a small scowl of my own, “I can take a few bad falls.”
His eyes dart across mine, nodding in agreement. “You can take three times this pain, Alexis, and still get out of bed in resilience and strength as you do now. But that doesn’t negate the fact that I’ll still resent the pain that’s being caused on you.”
“But you gave me a bruise just recently…”
