Chapter 29
FELORé
The walls inside the infirmary were shrinking, pressing against me as if to press the air from my lungs.
I wasn’t able to move. I was only able to stare at Landry. At his sleeping body.
“You know what is so funny,” the king was saying from somewhere beside me, but I could barely hear him. I could barely even move. “My commander and I could both swear you said your brother’s name was Lennox. What a wild journey you sent my soldiers on.”
Maybe I couldn’t move because my heart was no longer beating for me. The moment I’d stepped into this room, it was his. It’d always been his.
The tiny, pale boy who lay limp on one of the beds lining the walls, only his chest rising and falling with his breath.
“Landry,” the king said. “Landry is his name, and he is so lovely.”
Inside, I was screaming. I was cursing their existence, shouting for him to get my brother’s name off his vile tongue, but there was only silence on my lips. Silence and stillness as the walls and ceiling crowded in tighter.
“He’d fit in nicely at the palace. A pampered concubine for the rest of his days where he’ll be fed and nurtured. Neopal took an immediate liking to him. What luck.”
My swallow hobbled down my throat.
“Or,” the king said, stepping into my view of Landry, “I can make his life so fucking painful that he’ll wish he was dead. A wish I will not grant.”
When I found my voice, it was little more than a hiss, “You’re a monster.”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I am a father doing what needs to be done.”
“Alek doesn’t want me,” I shouted. “He’s fucking told you that.”
“I’m aware of what he’s said—”
“But you don’t listen! If you would fucking listen to him—”
Landry gasped.
My gaze darted to him. He did it again, choking, like he was struggling for air.
“He can’t breathe,” I said, rushing for him, but the king stopped me with a single hand against my chest that might as well have been a stone wall. “I said he can’t breathe! Let go. Something’s wrong—”
“I know,” he said calmly.
My eyes widened. “It’s you.”
Landry choked again, his body writhing in his sleep.
“Stop it,” I screamed. “Please stop. Please. I’m begging.”
That was when Landry gasped. After a moment, his inhales and exhales subtly returned to a gentle rise and fall, and I wanted to crumble to my knees.
My breath was uneven and my lips trembled as I stared at his body.
“Look at me, my sweet,” said the king, lifting my chin with a gentle graze of his fingers. “I think you know what needs to be done.”
I was vibrating out of my skin.
“Do not give him a choice. Make him take you.”
I hated to let him see me cry, but I couldn’t stop the tears from welling.
“Feed mine,” he said, cupping my face in his warm hands, “and I promise, I will feed yours.”
He’d won. With this, he’d won. And I didn’t even need to say anything for him to know it.
My muscles gradually surrendered, loosening one by one until I nearly slumped where I stood.
The king smiled at me, but there was no warmth in it. He couldn’t pretend to care. And there was no comfort in his tone as he said, his voice so sickly sweet, “Would you like a few minutes with him? I would be happy to grant you that.”
I blinked at Landry’s sleeping body.
I didn’t feel myself nod, but I must have because he followed up with, “Absolutely. Take all the time you need.”
The room was colder with him gone. And heavy with silence.
How many times had I lived this scene? How many times had I walked toward the boy with the broken legs with determination in my heart to keep him safe while he slept so soundly?
I’d done it my whole life, such that when I took his cool palm in mine, pressing a kiss against his knuckles, it felt like returning home.
The little bed groaned under my weight as I sat upon it, but he didn’t stir.
His sandy brown curls had gotten darker over time and his face more masculine, but so much of him had remained the same.
Like the way his long eyelashes curled at the tips.
I brushed a finger over them, smiling a little when they sprang back.
“Landry,” I said. “It’s good to see you, brother.”
My voice didn’t sound like me. Or it did, but not the version I used for many people. I’d always softened it a little for his ears.
“I, um. Well, I guess I’ve gotten us into a mess here, haven’t I?
” My chuckle was a little soggy as I sniffled.
“I should’ve taken you to the mountains like we always talked about.
I would’ve liked showing you the snow and the way the lake froze during winter.
I would’ve like walking across it with you. ”
His palm was lifeless in my hand.
“I owe you an apology,” I said, licking my lips. “I do. I think I was scared of what I’d be without you. But I love—I fucking love that you are not scared without me. Which is why I know you’re going to be just fine.”
The empty room rang in silence.
“You will like Alek.” I nodded, wiping my eyes on my sleeve before tears could fall. “He is special, Landry. Special, just like you. He deserves your forgiveness for this.”
It was for the best that he wasn’t awake. It was a mercy that he couldn’t plead or cry or look at me with that fucking tenderness in his eyes.
I lowered my forehead to touch his, and he smelled like him. Like the rain on our balcony. Like the worn linens of our shared bed.
Tears fell from my eyes, wetting his lovely face.
“My sweet brother,” I whispered into his curls, pressing a kiss against his forehead. “Take care of yourself. I know you can.”
His body shifted with the bed when I pushed myself from it. I wiped my eyes and swallowed the last of my fight. With one last squeeze of his palm, I started toward the king.