Isahn let her vent out her frustrations. She deserved it.
“I need a bath,” she bit out abruptly before she shoved away. Tearing off herpalla, she tossed it on the floor and began ripping at her dress.
“Would you like me to stay or leave? Whatever you need.”
She met his eyes, thick dark lashes clumped from tears. “Stay, please.” Her lower lip quivered as she flung herself forward, back into his waiting arms.
He bathed her with his magic, his movements slow, gentle, carried out with precision and a platonic distance. With large swaths of water, he swiped over her shoulders and down her arms, wishing he could wash away her past, her present, all of her pain. Her wrist was darkening with a bruise, so he threaded a cool coil around it, the temperature low to ease her hurt.
“Everywhere,” George murmured, “everywhere he touched me. Get it off.”
“Warm or cold?”
“Cold. Make it frigid.”
Blinking tears away, Isahn did as she asked, cleansing her thighs, and across her chest. Sluicing away the evil with an ice bath.
“Warm me,” she whispered when he was done.
He coaxed his magic into steam and embraced George with the vapors as he brought her back among the living, reborn and—he hoped—refreshed.
After drying her off, he helped her dress in a flowing sleep gown with a top not unlike his own sleeveless Domossan tunics.Isahn had selected it intentionally, hoping the modest cut would help her feel more comfortable.
She shuffled across the room and paused near her bed before looking back at him. “Will you lie with me?” Her voice was small, softer than he’d ever heard before. There was no sense of a demand in her request. It was truly un-George-like.
Nodding, he joined her, and they lay facing each other. When she snuggled in and asked him to hold her, he obliged, splaying one hand across her lower back while the other massaged her curls.
“Put your leg on me,” she rasped, sounding a bit more like herself.
Isahn gave her a squeeze and tossed a thick thigh protectively over top of hers.
George sighed into his chest, warming him with her hot breath as she wormed her way even closer.
“Isahn,” she whispered.
“Hm?”
“I promise, I’llneveruse my magic on you without your permission. I’ll never hurt you with my powers. I want you to know that.”
“I know. And I promise to never hurt you or use my magic on you without permission.”
“I already knew that.”
“Good.” He kissed the top of her curly head.
“It’s going to get weird, and bad... worse, starting tomorrow.”
Isahn nodded softly, so as not to jostle her too much.
“The banquet is one of the only events I’ll have to attend. A big show of power. Just... I’m so sorry, Isahn.”
He loosened his hold on her and pulled away enough to look into her eyes. “What are you apologizing for?”
“I have to put on a facade around him. For now.” She gritted her teeth. “I may not be able to act as I’d like.”
He pressed a firm kiss to her mouth before pulling her close again. When she was nestled in safely, Isahn spoke into her curls, “I want you to remember two very important things, Georgie. Wherever your father is concerned, you have my permission to torture me with your magic if it comes to that. Anything to keep yourself safe. Do you understand?”
“All right. What’s the other thing?” Her breath tickled his chest hairs.
