I poke his right rib. He cringes inwardly and clenches his jaw. Every muscle on his body is bulging with built-uptension.I search his eyes for an explanation before I take it upon myself to investigate, but he gives me nothing.
I hook my fingers under his white shirt, lifting it just above his ribs.
A nearly inaudible gasp peels from my lips.
His ribs are as swollen and purple as a bulging cloud cascading across the hills and crevices of his muscles. He makes Aurick look like a young boy.
“What have they done to you?” I whisper in shock.
A tremor pulses through me as I gape at his next movements. While keeping his eyes on me, he undoes his shackles and grabs my hand.
“How—” My hand, suspended inside the firmness of his grip, stiffens.
He presses a finger to my lips.“Are you frightened? Any sane person would think they are as good as dead right now, given that I am free from restraint.”
I pause. I try to understand the emotions that are flooding through me right now. Fear is not one of them. Shock is. Confusion is. But not fear.
“Here’s a secret for our little game… I amnevertruly restrained.”
He’s trying to scare me. He’s trying to give me pause.
“That does not frighten me. What scares me is how you got these bruises.”
The first genuine head tilt of surprise. His lips tug at the corners like he doesn’t know if this bit of shock is enough to make him grace me with his white teeth.
Outside of the door, metal scrapes against metal, a latch being lifted. My hand is released from his grasp, and he quickly secures his shackles, clamping them back around his wrists.
Suseas enters the room, careful to stay in the doorway.
“My deepest apologies for the interruption.” Her smile falls as she notices me, crouched on my knees in front of Dessin. Brows lift. “Explain to me the meaning of this, Miss Ambrose.”
I pop up to my feet, bite my lip, and point at Dessin’s ribs. “He has—” I look back at Suseas as if she can help me finish my sentence. Nothing. I glance back at Dessin for assistance. And to my surprise, he raises his eyebrows and laughs.
“Yes, do explain to us the meaning of this, Miss Ambrose.” He tips his head back to laugh harder.
“—Bruises.” I finally spit out. I’d rather not investigate why this is funny to him. But I would be lying if I said that small rumble of laughter in his chest wasn’t making me want to smile back.
“He was flogged…” She looks down and picks at her cuticles. “We can discuss that at another time. But for now, Demechnef oligarchs are visiting the asylum today. This is an annual opportunity for us. They’ve wanted to meet Patient Thirteen since his arrival, but we have never felt comfortable with visitors. At least, not until the progress you’ve made.”
In the corner of my eye, Dessin tenses up.
“I really don’t think that’s wise.” And based on the creasing between his brows, he agrees.
“The decision has been made by the council. Our guests will be arriving shortly.”
I open my mouth to object, but Suseas’s expression quickly morphs, like a flower wilting without the sun or a painting being washed away from a splash of water. And she’s backing into the wall behind her, concealing a breath of horror within her lungs, trembling from head to toe.
I almost ask,Are you having a stroke?But the shadow of a man, standing upright, like a mountain that has just emerged from underground, darkens the floor from behind me. And as he takes a step forward, his full length is displayed. Around six foot four, with wide shoulders and a stern stance. He’s revealed his secret to her.
I am never truly restrained.
The amusement on his face is like a bolt of lightning.
“No…” Suseas’s utters.
“I’ve been on my best behavior ever since Sern’s accident.”Dessinsteps toward her, massaging his raw wrists.“Therefore, I can certainly understand that you thought my threats had become empty.”
Suseas’s lips outline the name of God.
