Page 180 of Plug and Drain

Having to stay in bed was a new form of torture.

“It was a great book,” she conceded, folding her hands as if she was perfectly content—as if a tapestry of extraordinary events hadn’t just imprinted themselves on her soul.

“One of my favourites,” Arken said.

She glanced over, but he was focusing on the parchment he was writing on.

“Is it?” she asked.

“Yes.”

Susie pursed her lips together. Things had been…strangely formal between them, given the circumstances. They’d settled into a routine, one where Susie spent most of her days in Arken’s bed, and when he wasn’t away doing other things, he sat at his desk. The hours passed in almost complete silence.

Arken seemed to sense she wasn’t ready to talk because he’d stopped trying to bring up the subject.

Susie was desperate to hear his version of events, but she was also afraid. She couldn’t fathom a plausible reason as to why he’d stood by as Henrikk assaulted her, except for the obvious: that he either thought too little of her to jeopardise his good standing with the King, which was a reason she could at least understand, or…

That he was so terrified, so broken inside, that he’d been paralysed by Henrikk’s presence.

The latter was heartbreaking but more believable. Arken was strong, and beautiful, and gentle, but it did not take a long acquaintance to see that he was carrying a wound that was deep and debilitating.

They would need to have that conversation sooner or later, but she was terrified of the prospect.

Susie became conscious of her clenched fists. Her claws punctured holes in the feather quilt, and she’d stopped breathing.

She took a deep breath, letting the tension go.

No, she was not ready to unpack the details of that event. Not when she was bedridden, with no option of fleeing when the inevitable revelations struck her.

No, it was far better to stay ignorant and hope that there was some explanation she hadn’t thought of. Something that would make it all go away. If she had more time, maybe it would occur to her.

A pang ached in her chest.

If there was a good explanation, Arken would have told me by now.

Crestfallen, she lay her head on the pillow facing away from Arken and pretended to sleep.

Sarah still visited daily, but the visits were shorter now that Susie’s back was healing. The visits always ended with Sarah urging her to ‘get better soon’ because everyone missed her.

Susie missed them too, and Sarah’s absence made the days go by slowly. Apart from brief exchanges of pleasantries, and long hours spent with him reading to her in the evenings, Arken did not try to engage her in conversation. Susie resolutely avoided any topics that had even the faintest chance of leading them to the one conversation that they really, really needed to have.

One evening, Arken placed a second novel on her bedside table.

“The sequel,” he said and wandered away.

She brushed her fingers over the cover, not bothering to hide her awe. “There’s more?”

“Of course,” Arken said cheerfully, giving his coat a shake before putting it on. “You didn’t think they’d let the world burn, did you? Someone has to find the chalice.”

Susie dropped her gaze to the book. “I assumed it was purposefully left open-ended.”

“Hmm. Well, fortunately that is not the case.” Arken looked thoughtful as he straightened his coat, his dextrous fingers doing up the buttons. His gaze met hers, and Susie’s throat went dry. His eyes were practically golden. “I far prefer it when there’s closure, don’t you?”

Susie swallowed, and she thought she inferred his meaning. “Yes, I suppose so.”

He held her gaze for a moment longer. “Well, in any case, I highly recommend the sequel. It explains a lot of the questions posed in the first instalment. And…I’d be curious to hear your thoughts.”

Susie drew in air through her teeth.