Resolve sinking into my veins, I turned back to Otho only to almost drop the supplies from my hands. I don’t know how he had done it, but was already reaching over his shoulder and trying to wiggle the arrow free.
“Stop that!” I shouted, placing my hands on his. “You need to pull the arrow out carefully. What you are doing right now will only cause more damage.”
Otho chuckled. “You sound just likeFriar.”
At the name of his girlfriend, my blood ran cold. But I snapped myself out of it—I was just helping him in the way she would. I reached up for the arrow before realizing I was too short to have enough leverage in this situation. “Lie down,” I commanded, purposefully avoiding his previous comment.
He did as he was told, and the moment he was flat on his stomach, I didn’t give him any warning before I placed one hand on his shoulder, the other on the arrow, and yanked it out.
Now he did yell—an expletive at that. “Next time, warn me.”
I smirked, proud of myself. “No way. If I warn you, then you’ll tense and make it harder on yourself.”
He turned to look at me over his shoulder, apprehension clouding his features. “Are you a healer?”
I smiled and shook my head, “No, just had a brother who found himself in trouble more times than not.” I instantly regretted my words. That was the first time I had spoken about Milo other than to mention he existed to Leif since I left home. And though I now realized Otho had secrets of his own, I still couldn’t trust that he was on my side.
Especially not when I had been betrayed by someone called a general while in Bru.
“It’s okay.” His warm hand covered mine where it still rested on his shoulder. “I won’t say anything, I promise.”
I nodded, whatever I had been moving to do was now lost in the embarrassment of mentioning Milo.
Otho remembered though, and he sat up, pulling his shirt over his head before lying back down so I could properly dress the wound.
It was just for a second, but even just a glimpse of his muscled chest had me blushing, which I knew was wrong since he had Friar. I didn’t know why I always found my eyes drawn to him—it wasn’t something I had experienced when I pined over Roger back in Ralheim.
Probably because Otho is far more attractive than Roger. I forcedthe thought from my mind. Thinking like that wouldn’t lead to anything good.
My mind functioning once more, I, again, didn’t warn him as I poured the cleaning potion Cal had shoved into my arms on his wounds. This time, he didn’t flinch. While the wound was deep, it wasn’t bleeding nearly as much as I assumed it would be. I sniffed the potion, noticing the subtle hints of mint and tree bark, two ingredients that prevented infection. While I personally would have added magnolias to lessen the burn, I hadn’t seen any since the day I left my home in Ralheim.
I leaned closer to the wound, watching as the potion bubbled.
Once the wound was clean, I dabbed at it with a piece of cloth before wrapping it. It was difficult, since I had to wrap the cloth under his arm and around his front, but the wound wasn’t too large, so I only did a few layers before stopping.
His gaze followed my every motion, and I couldn’t help but notice the large number of scars he had crossing his body in various places—even as I tried to keep my focus on wrapping his wound. The most startling was perhaps the X etched across his back, and I couldn’t resist brushing my finger over the raised skin.
“I got into a lot of trouble too.” His voice was quiet.
I swallowed, thoughts of Milo overtaking my mind once more. I don’t know why it had been so much easier to forget him when I was enslaved by Viscount Adis, but something about the last few days wouldn’t let my thoughts of him rest. I hoped he was okay. I hoped Collum was okay too, and that they both were staying out of trouble. My gaze caught on Otho’s tattoos, which swirled in delicate patterns down his back. I traced one between loops, wondering what they meant.
His skin flickered under my hand. “Tell me about him,” he whispered as I completed the last loop and tucked the end of the bandage.
My throat felt tight, and though I felt an urge to tell himeverything, my mind stopped me and I glanced toward the door, searching for any way to change the subject.
“Hey.” He moved into a sitting position so quick I almost fell off of where I perched on the edge of the bed. For so recently having an arrow in his shoulder, he was still quite mobile. He tried to force my gaze to his, but I kept my eyes downcast, scared he would somehow read about Milo in my pupils. “I already know his name. I already know you were masquerading as him. If I wanted to turn you in, I would have already.”
I still said nothing, though everything he said made sense. Plus, this aligned with what he had said in the forest. But still, something prevented me from speaking—a gut feeling I couldn’t place.
He sighed. “I know you have no reason to trust me, but I promise you I am not on Adis’s side.”
I fidgeted with my hands in my lap, even as his grip remained on my chin. It took everything in my power to keep my gaze downcast. “Whose side are you on then?”
He shrugged, finally releasing his hold on me. Once his hand was gone from my chin, I felt my shoulders relaxing, though my face did experience a slight chill from the absence of his contact. “My own.”
I don’t know if it was my empathetic gift, but something told me he was being honest, so with a deep breath, I began. “Milo and I were twins, born on the same moons.”
His chin shot up, and I could hear him gritting his teeth. But before he could comment, I continued. “My parents couldn’t bear to put one of us to death, as is the tradition of the Seid. So, they raised us to share a life, my brother and I. We would take turns dressing as him, walking as he did, and attending school.”
