An obnoxiously large bed sat in a prominent position in the center of the room. The white gossamer curtains pulled aside to reveal crisp white sheets, a bed better suited for a queen than the king’s whore. Because that’s what he wanted me to be despite the request for amarriage.I would be a vessel to control, to create and spit out heirs.
“Let’s get you into the bath.” Wista guided me through another door into a private bathing room. I swayed on a stool while she made quick work of the bath, the one positive being the castle’s more modern plumbing. Before long, she was lowering me into a golden tub large enough for three.
The fragrant mixture of salts and oils soothed and stung. Wista knelt beside the tub and washed the blood from my raw skin and tangled hair. I didn’t stop her, the walk into the room tired me, and I had no energy left to clean myself. Neither of us spoke as she wrapped my ribs, then dressed me into a loose-fitted nightgown and helped me to bed. The walls of the room were thankfully free of birds; there was no way I would be able to sleep if they’d decorated the room.
I stared at the white gossamer hanging from the ceiling above me while she tucked the blankets around my chest. “I have an herb from my home that relieves pain and aides in healing. I’ll make you some tea with it.”
I met soft-brown eyes—it wasn’t pity or even sympathy, it was understanding staring back at me. Understanding and empathy. I didn’t want her to leave, didn’t want to be alone, not when every time I closed my eyes, depths of icy dark stared menacingly back at me.
“Your home?” I prompted. I hadn’t learned much about her past yet and speaking of something else would be a relief. She nodded, a wistful smile on her face, and I patted the mattress beside me. “Will you tell me?”
“I should really get you that tea.”
“Please,” I whispered, the plea in that one simple word clear. She sat down, careful not to jostle my injuries.
Wista spoke of her hometown, a small village in Mortremon at the base of the Demnocollis Mountain Range. The weather was harsh and frigid, but the people were kind, the villagers banding together to support each other through freezing winters, ensuring none were without food or warmth. She spoke fondly of her mother, a skilled healer who tended her own herb garden, knowledge she passed onto her daughter.
She paused in her story, her eyes growing guarded. “I ended up moving to Zargen and working for King Siro.”
My brows rose, sending a spark of pain through my face. Not only was she a Mortremon citizen, but she had worked directly for the king in the capital. To admit this to me, at risk of execution, meant more than she would ever realize. She trusted me with the truth, and I was beyond grateful.
“How did you end up here?” I whispered, almost afraid to ask given the shadows in her eyes.
“I stupidly followed a man.” Her smile was tight as she continued, “He left me stranded in enemy territory for another woman.”
“I’m sorry, Wista.” My heart ached for her, to have risked so much and be betrayed by a person she loved. It was clear by the pain in her eyes that it had been love.
“It’s just lucky I found work here, but I haven’t seen my family since.”
“Have you been able to get letters across the border at least?” Out of everything she told me, that made my heart ache most, to know your family were alive but unable to see them.
“I have some …connections, who have helped get word to my family.” She smiled sadly, and a lone tear tracked down her cheek. I grabbed her hands, squeezing them gently.
“Thank you for sharing your story with me. I’ll tell no one of your heritage, you have my word.” If the time came where it was exposed, I would do what I could to protect her.
“I know, Adelia. I wouldn’t have told you if I didn’t trust you.”
I smiled, grateful that, for the first time in my life, I had a true friend.
“I’ll get your tea.”
It didn’t take long for Wista to fetch the healing herb and deliver the warm tea. After I drank two entire cups of the bitter stuff, she left me with a promise to keep Eleanor away until I healed. She would ask questions if she saw me like this and wouldn’t understand the answers without the full truth.
Although the tea helped, I couldn’t get comfortable with the throbbing pain stifling my body. I twitched and shifted, staring at the candlelight dancing along the bare walls throwing shadows of the lamp around the room. It rested on the small table beside the bed, where I’d placed it after my bath. The humming vibration offered me comfort in the emptiness of the large room.
I craved Shade’s presence and the calming nature of his scent, but I didn’t want him to see me like this. Hurt. Damaged.Broken.
Guilt was a heavy weight. He had been locked away for so long already, and I loathed to keep him in there now.
I caressed the warm metal, the simple touch making me feel closer to him, then hugged it to my chest, the vibration settling into me. To my bones. To my very soul. The sound. The feeling. It was everything I needed in the wake of the king’s assault.
It was warmth and comfort and light.
Every time I shut my eyes, his black gaze stared back at me. I couldn’t escape the flashes of his abuse as visions assaulted me. Birds fluttered away, turning their backs on the cruelty dished out by their mighty king.
Silent tears left me, hot and thick, as I relived it all. Every strike. Every word. All the pain.
It filled me. A writhing snake of despair in my chest, my stomach—every inch of my body. It left no nerve untouched.
