People greet us, noticing their prince riding up. He never stopped, he never slowed down and she looks so tiny in his arms. He clutches her with his hands, keeping her face buried in his chest as best he can. The people start parting as they notice him barreling into the village, not slowing down in the slightest.
Jumping from his horse, Carnaxa still in his arms, he yells, “We need healers!” He carries her into a building, laying her on a bed.
“What is wrong with her?” I yell at Ereon as the healers flock around her. We may have all felt some pain, but everyone else seems to be awake and unharmed, so why isn't she? I put myself between her and the men and women who are flooding this room. I don't know them, what if they aren't even true healers? What if they are enemies of Antalis?
“Why do you think I would know any more than you do? You were with us when this happened.” He punches a wall and mutters under his breath. “I don't know what happened. But I promise, these people will help her, but we have to let them.” He pulls my arm, trying to get me to leave her.
“No! I will not leave her in this strange place. I'm sworn to protect her and by the Goddess, I will kill anyone who stands in my way and that includes you, Prince.”
“If you think you could kill me and walk out of here alive, you are mistaken, Captain. Did you forget that I love her too!?”
One of the older healers walks between us before she admonishes, “We are trying to save Princess Carnaxa and do not need whatever this is” – she motions between us – “happening here. Get out, both of you.” Her wrinkled hands push us toward the door.
I know I should leave, I'm being irrational, but my legs feel like trees rooted to the ground. She pushes Ereon again, emphasizing, “We need the room.”
He huffs and pats my shoulder. “Thylas, let them do their job.”
I run my hands down my face and let out a loud sigh, but I follow him from the room. My anger and anxiety twist into a heavy knot in my chest. I need her to be okay. He leads me to a vendor and grabs two ales – passing me one. I drink it quickly hoping for some relief. His eyes dart around watching those among us but his eyes are riddled with worry. We walk back to the healing room and wait outside. Ereon sits down with his back against the wall, running his hands through his hair. I sit down beside him and stretch out my legs. The people passing side-eye us and talk in hushed breaths.
“They've never seen me show so much emotion,” Ereon confesses.
I rest my forearms on my bent knee, adjusting the sword at my side. Where are Ereon's swords? Did he drop them, it's the first time I truly notice how distraught he is. He doesn't have his swords or his guard. He's just a man who is worried as much as I am.
“For a woman or in general?” I take another drink, realizing it's already empty.
“Both.”
I look back toward the room. The healers have not come out, we have received no status update on Carnaxa. My palms sweat profusely with each passing moment . Is it from this horrid heator my nerves? Probably both. For once, Ereon does not boast or make comments. We just sit in silence, waiting.
“Prince Ereon ...” The oldest healer, the one who shoved me out, finally appears in the doorway. We quickly stand. “She's still asleep; we've done all we can. She, from what we can tell, is stable. We'll send someone to get water and liquified food for her. I don't advise either of you to be here when we provide nourishment to her.”
“Will she wake?” my words come out more clipped then I mean for them, but her not waking up is not an option.
“We do not know the plans of the gods, boy. She may wake up tomorrow or she may never wake up.”
Ereon pops his neck. “Thank you,” the words come out gritted and his fists clench at his sides. The healer turns back into the room.
I look around trying to find some sort of comfort in anything. So I fall to my knees and raise my hands, the way the priestesses always do. “Neshæ pekæ ra , lengo ra , noko ra,” reciting the same prayer I said to her the night her mother passed. Ereon joins me, “Watch over her, guide her, love her.”
I look at him shocked, but we continue to chant here on our knees for what feels like hours. As the healers leave, we stay and pray. We pray until the sun starts its decline and we can no longer feel our knees.
When we are finally done, we go into the room and look at her. Carnaxa’s hair is splayed around her like a divine being, she looks so much more peaceful than she was just a few hours ago. Ereon moves to stand beside her, sitting on the edge of the bed. But I can't sit so I pace the room. “What are we supposed to do?”
He runs his hand down her arm. “We wait, Captain. We wait and we pray to her goddess. That's all we can do.”
thirty-eight
ANARA
The days have blended together, the small window at the top of the wall barely lets in any light, only enough to tell day from night along with the briefest glance of the sun and moon. I don't know how long Ereon has been gone. I can't remember what it is like to feel a ray of light other than a flicker of a torch skimming my skin. I can't remember anything but pain at this point. Pain that the King swore I wouldn't succumb to if Ereon did what he was commanded. Atlas promised I would be safe …and I guess I am, if I'm still alive. Regardless, Ereon will blame himself for this. He always does. It's not his fault, he had no choice but to do what he did – what he will have to do.
For a moment, I thought King Atlas was truthful in what he told him. He had never touched me before so why would he now? I was wrong. So very, very, wrong. My body aches from the beatings, but when physical abuse didn’t break me ... he thought forcing himself on me would. He was wrong. With each thrust, he made me stronger because I would not break- not to him. Not when I remember who I am and where I am from.
My people never asked to be stolen from our lands. I've heard this misdeed has come to a stop as of a few lunar years ago when they realized we hold no value to them here. If I had been stolen, I would have been broken, but I wasn't. I was sold by my father who was left with me, his only daughter. A daughter with flames in her veins who couldn't be controlled. A daughter born with wisdom and beauty. He was scared of what I could do. So when he saw the Shaston army, thePrel,on our shores, he willingly sold me. The voyage to Midaeliea and then to Shaston was tough, but I was bought for the King, so none of the Shastonians dared to touch me.
No one took my innocence, that had been given to a kind boy one night under the stars. When I was presented to the King I watched him stare at me, I knew then that he would try to take everything away from me. But he couldn't, I may not have access to it – but it is still only something I can give freely.
I listen for any sounds from the dark, damp corridor outside my prison. He's not visited me in a couple of days and I know he will soon. The obsidian chains clink as I try to find a comfortable place to sit. Having nothing but a bed and being chained to the wall, comfort is hard to find.
