Chapter 8 Lily #2
“Dad won’t give a damn about that,” Hawk said. “I say we do it.” He looked to all of us for agreement.
I nodded, and so did Mom. Khazmuda too.
“Alright, let’s try it.”
We had the blacksmith remove a portion of the platinum slab and melt it down into a liquid inside an iron cup.
It was sealed and covered before being given to me on Zehemoth’s back.
I was able to get it to the castle in less than a minute and then handed it off to Hawk, who sprinted inside to bring it to the healer waiting at my father’s bedside.
I slid off Zehemoth and ran through the castle until I reached the royal chambers. When I walked inside, my mother had just removed the bandage that was already soiled with blood, and then the healer applied the hot platinum to the skin with an iron paddle.
My father didn’t move, but he gave a slight cringe, like the pain was strong enough to pierce the fog in his mind.
The healer continued to apply the melted platinum into the wound at his shoulder, blood pouring down his body until the wound was fully sealed with the viscous material.
Once the skin was fully coated, he withdrew the paddle and dropped it onto the iron plate on the nightstand. The remaining platinum was set aside.
My father continued to cringe and breathe deeply for minutes, the metal burning his flesh and releasing a hint of stench into the air. But it eventually cooled to the temperature of his body, and he stopped reacting.
We all stood there, waiting and hoping he would open his eyes and be exactly as we remembered.
But an hour went by, and nothing changed.
Was I foolish to expect this to work?
Was that two-week journey for absolutely nothing?
“Nothing’s happening.” My brother was the first one to speak, to cave into the raw disappointment. He looked at the healer as if he would have an explanation.
“I don’t know if it will work,” he said. “But if it does work, it will take time. The platinum will need to dissolve the curse within his flesh, and then his body will need time to heal that wound. We need to be patient.”
Do you feel any changes? I silently asked Khazmuda.
No. We’re continuing to fuel his body at the same rate.
The disappointment was so strong it almost made me collapse in tears.
He will still need our strength to heal, so don’t despair.
Two days passed, and there was no sign of a change with my father.
I didn’t sleep at first, too afraid he might wake up at any second. But then my body collapsed in exhaustion, and I slept for nearly an entire day. When I woke up, my father was still comatose…and Callum still wasn’t there.
I’d hit rock bottom.
I sat in front of the fireplace and let myself cry in privacy, no longer needing to appear strong for my soldiers because the battle was over. Now, I was just a daughter who grieved her father, who grieved the man she loved.
A knock sounded on the door. “Queen Rothschild, General Viper is here to see you.”
I sucked in a hard breath and wiped away my tears with the sleeves of my sweater. I brought myself as close to calm as I could reach before I called out, “He may enter.”
The guard let Viper inside, as always dressed in his full armor and cape like it was a gesture of respect to be fully clothed in my presence, even though I wasn’t his queen…or anything else.
He entered the sitting room and looked at the fireplace instead of me as he sat down. It took him a moment to turn to look at me directly. “Still no change?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“Don’t give up hope. It was a deep wound.”
All I did was take a breath. I didn’t have the heart to hope but didn’t want to give up either. “If it doesn’t work, I have no idea what to try next.”
“You could administer it differently. Consult with the elves of Riviana Star.”
“Queen Eldinar is sending another healer who will be here tomorrow.”
He nodded. “You will find a way.”
“But if this isn’t the platinum, I don’t know where to find it.”
“Who told you platinum was the solution?”
“Callum.”
There was a quick reaction in his eyes, a cloud of suspicion. “And you’re certain he’s right?”
“That’s what Riviana told him.”
“But you didn’t hear this from her?”
“He would never deceive me. Just because he’s the god of the underworld doesn’t mean he’s evil and vile.”
“With all due respect, it doesn’t sound like a job a good man would ever take.”
“You don’t know him. You don’t know his story. And I’m not going to share it with you, because it’s none of your business.” He hadn’t even confided in me, just vague pieces of it.
Viper looked at the fire again and let the silence fall like snow for a while. “I don’t say these things to provoke you. I say these things to help you.”
“Questioning the integrity of the man I love is not helping, Viper.”
“I’m not questioning the man you love, but the demon that rules the underworld. And once your family knows exactly who you’ve given your heart to, they will question it far more than I ever have.”
“He’s not a demon.”
“Just because you’ve never seen that form of him doesn’t mean he’s not.”
“All I care about right now is my father, and you’re provoking me.”
“I’m simply questioning the source of your information because I’m trying to help you.” It was the first time he’d lost his temper, his eyes hardening in anger, his nostrils flaring like he was about to scream.
I turned silent, having not seen this side of him before now.
He looked at the fireplace again and rubbed his knuckles with his palm. “It’s time that I return home. My men have recovered and are anxious to return to their families.” After another pause, he turned to look at me. “But I’ll stay if you need me.”
The Barbarians had been defeated, and there were no other enemies to come for the kingdom.
There would be a long reign of peace to follow these horrors.
I didn’t need Viper or his army anymore, and I was tired of defending Callum’s honor since he wasn’t there to defend it himself.
But Viper had been the wind in my sails, the shield on my arm, the ally I needed to survive this war…
and my friend. It was a comfort I wasn’t ready to release, but I knew it was time to go our separate ways. “No, you should head back—”
Something has changed.
Viper was still in front of me, but I suddenly couldn’t see him. The world became a blur as I focused on Khazmuda’s voice in my head. What? What do you feel?
He’s using far more energy than he was yesterday. More of the dragons have had to join our ranks because of it.
What does that mean, Khazmuda?
I think it means he’s healing—and he needs more energy to do it.
Both of my hands cupped my mouth as tears sprang to my eyes.
I didn’t see Viper’s reaction. Didn’t see anything in front of me. Just closed my eyes and gave in to the sobs of relief. “He’s healing… Khazmuda says he’s healing.”
From that point onward, we were all together in my father’s royal chambers, sitting at his side and waiting for the moment he would wake up.
Khazmuda said my father continued to use immense reserves of energy.
More dragons were required to help and take turns, carrying the burden of my father’s needs without complaint.
Viper decided to stay until my father woke up, even though I didn’t ask him to. Watching me break down in tears must have changed his mind. Seeing the way I abandoned all my responsibilities as queen to be at my father’s bedside must have shown him how incapacitated I was to lead right now.
My family and I sat together at my father’s bedside constantly, sleeping on the couches in the living room when we got tired, taking our meals at the dining table just down the hall. All eagerly waiting for the moment he would open his eyes again.
He’s awake.
I jumped up from the chair, and my mother did the same thing across the room. We all heard Khazmuda’s words and rushed to my father’s bedside and stared at his closed eyes, waiting for them to open.
Why hasn’t he opened his eyes yet?
He needs time. His mind is awake, but his body isn’t. I’m sharing everything that’s come to pass since the battle of Riviana Star.
“Khazmuda said his body hasn’t woken up yet, but they’re talking.”
Hawk released the biggest sigh of relief I’d ever heard. Even moved to his knees at my father’s bedside and rested his face on the covers like he was overwhelmed by the victory.
My mother pulled her armchair to his side and gripped his hand, tears coming to her eyes like she mourned his death rather than celebrated his life.
Nearly an hour later, he finally opened his eyes.
His head was tilted toward my mother, so she was the first person he saw.
His face was still pale as snow, and his eyes held a heavy glaze from his long slumber.
He stared at her for a second, his eyes shifting slightly as he took in her appearance.
Then his chest rose with the deep breath he took. “Vulkara…”
In dragon speech—my eternal love.
The endearment broke the dam in her eyes, and the tears poured down her cheeks like a sheet of rain.
“Talon…” Her other hand moved to his, enclosing his palm between hers before she squeezed it.
She moved out of the chair and to her knees on the rug then rested her face in their joined hands… and just sobbed.
I wanted to see my dad so much, but now I felt like Hawk and I didn’t belong there.
Sometimes I forgot that my parents had their own relationship, that it was as strong as what they each had with each of us.
That our story started with the two of them, two people still in love even after decades of marriage.
I gently rubbed Hawk’s back to get his attention.
He sat up and watched the two of them together.
“I think we should give them a moment.”
He turned to look at me, disappointment in his eyes like he didn’t want to go, but he eventually gave a nod.
We crept out of the room, the two of them absorbed in each other, my mother’s tears still audible in the sitting room.
She was the one who had been at his side every hour of every day.
Who watched him breathe to make sure he was still alive.
Who watched over him the way a ferocious dragon protected her hatchlings.
She deserved this time with him.
Hawk stared blankly at the stone that surrounded the hearth, like he was both in shock and in the deepest state of relaxation he’d ever felt.
I felt the same way, almost unable to believe that we had succeeded, that my father had woken up from the coma that took months from his life, surviving an injury that would have taken someone else because the dragons wouldn’t have loaned their strength to anyone but him.
Everything that had happened was a blur in my mind. I would always remember it as a time when I had to carry on without my father’s guidance—and it was something I never wanted to live through again.
After what felt like hours, Mom stepped into the sitting room. “Hawk, your father wants to see you.”
He jumped off his end of the couch and hurried down the hallway to join him.
I was slightly stung that he’d asked for my brother instead of me, but then I remembered how happy I was that my father was alive and I couldn’t care less about the preferential treatment.
My mother took the seat beside me, grabbed my hand, and held it on her thigh.
I stared at the fire, my heart beating the slowest it had in a very long time.
The last time it had felt this calm was when Callum slept beside me, and that felt like forever ago.
My mother’s hand was warm for the first time in months.
When I looked at her, I saw the moisture still coating the surface of her eyes.
“He’s alive because of you,” she said quietly. “Because you didn’t give up, Lily.”
“You wouldn’t have given up either, Mom. If I weren’t here, you would have figured it out.”
“I hope so, but I really don’t know. And I’m glad I’ll never know.” She gave my hand a gentle squeeze.
We sat together for a long time, what felt like an hour, maybe more, letting the silence pass like the soft waves on the shore at midnight.
Then Hawk stepped out, eyes bloodshot from the tears. “Lily.” He walked behind the couch and sat in the armchair near the fire, his shoulders dropping the second he was seated, as if that conversation had emptied his cup rather than filled it.
I should run into my father’s room the way Hawk did, but my body suddenly felt heavy and my heart even heavier.
The moment was tumultuous, like I was on the precipice of irrevocable change.
What I wanted more than anything was for my father to rise once again, and now that it had come to pass, I didn’t know how to accept it.
It felt like a dream.
I left the couch and entered the hallway before I approached his open doorway.
He had adjusted himself, so he sat up against the headboard, the sheets at the top of his stomach, his wound visible because he was shirtless.
His eyes were on the window, the glow of the sunshine striking his espresso-colored eyes, the light reflecting the hint of moisture that sat there.
He continued to stare like he was in the same level of disbelief as I was.
Then he felt me there and slowly turned to look at me.
My eyes locked on his for the first time since the battle of Riviana Star, when I’d rushed to him after I’d made the Barbarians flee and found the enormous golden sword piercing his exposed shoulder. The look of anger and fear and pride was one I would never forget.
His stare was different now, full of wonder and love and admiration.
Then his eyes started to glisten as the tears welled up, as he looked at me like it was the first time he’d ever seen me.
Seen me as his daughter, seen me as Queen of the Southern Isles, as the little girl he’d raised to be as strong as a man.
He took a deep breath, and then the tears broke the surface and poured down his cheeks.
He didn’t wipe them away. He stared at me without blinking, without shame for the emotion he carried in his heart. “Zunieth…”
I didn’t feel my own tears until I moved to his side, until I felt their weight streaking down my cheeks.
I reached for his hand so I could hold it as I sat at his bedside, but he tugged me into him like he didn’t still carry a mortal wound in his shoulder.
He pulled me into him, smothered me with both of his arms like I was still his little girl, and he squeezed me against him as he rested his chin on my head.
I knew he was still crying when I felt the tears soak into my hair, when I felt his hands tremble as he held me.
“I’m so proud—” His words were cut off by the tears in his voice. “So—so proud to call you my daughter.”