“It’s not fine.” I place the bloody cloth under the hot water.
“Who?” Brevan asks.
“I can’t say. I don’t want him to do worse.” She doesn’t look at Brevan.
“Who?” Brevan asks again.
Antonia’s lower lip trembles, but she manages to speak. “Lord Daley.”
“Do not leave this room. Either of you.” He fixes a terrifying gaze on me. “You understand?”
“We won’t,” we both say in unison.
He slams the door on his way out.
“What’s he going to do?” Antonia asks.
“I don’t know if we want to know. Now, let me get you cleaned up. Do you want to take a bath?” If Caiden had his way last night, I know I would have needed to wash myself over and over.
“I’m supposed to take care of you,” she says.
“Hush. Tonight, you be the princess and I’ll be your lady.” I smile gently.
“I’d like a bath,” she says. “As hot as possible. I don’t even want to feel my skin ever again.”
“I understand,” I say. “Roses? Lavender?”
“No lavender,” she says. “Orange?”
I look at the oils and salts sitting near the tub. There’s a pot of salts that has flecks of orange in it. I smell it to check. “We have orange salts.”
She nods. “Thank you.”
“Do you need help getting out of your clothes?”
She nods, and I notice she’s moving slowly. Her face wasn’t the only thing injured. When Brevan comes back, I might have to hunt this man down and kill him myself.
Once she’s in the tub, I give her some privacy and close the door. Her cries are soft at first, then grow to louder sobs. I want to make it all go away. To fix it for her. But the only way to fix it is to eliminate the problem. Men like Caiden who think theycan have anything they want. An empire that treats women as property and not people.
I’m starting to understand what my mother fought for. And moreover, I understand why she was willing to die for it.
I must be successful. Not for revenge. But for justice for Antonia, for me, for everyone who’s been harmed by the way things are.
I collect myself as much as I can, then walk over to my door. Brevan is in the hallway. “You’re back.”
“I didn’t want to intrude. Is there anything you need?” his tone is gentle.
“He hurt her.” My eyes burn from holding back tears.
“I know,” he says.
And somehow, I know he understands the rage and sorrow behind my words.
“I took care of it.”
I don’t know what he did, but I trust him. The realization is both oddly calming and terrifying. “Thank you.”
He nods. “Good night, Princess.”
