Chapter Three #2
“Has this session concluded?” the trokav asked, his voice thick with an emotion I couldn’t quite place, not bothering to spare me a glance.
After I waved my hand lazily, feigning disinterest, Hugo crossed the cell to the prisoner’s side and gently turned him onto his back. Moving much faster than the older male usually did, he flung open his bag and began sifting through the bottles and vials of various healing remedies.
I watched by the light of the torch as Hugo used his water wielding abilities to manipulate a foggy liquid out of a small vial, tugging it through the air closer to him and the prisoner.
Hugo tilted the male’s head back and swung his wrist, sending the entirety of the foggy liquid between the slightly parted lips of the prisoner’s mouth.
Hugo paused, and I couldn’t help but note how gently he handled those within his care.
Suddenly, the male before him gasped, flying into a sitting position, panting. He seemed to immediately regret the movement as he groaned, the sound pained.
“Shhh, you’ll be alright. No, don’t look, just close your eyes,” Hugo said to the male, who had been tilting his head down to look at the damage done to him.
The prisoner’s eyes searched Hugo’s. He looked so vulnerable, so fearful, I couldn’t help rolling my eyes at the sight.
The male must have found something in Hugo’s gaze as he relaxed slightly, realizing Hugo was once again here to help him—not harm him. He hesitated, then closed his eyes and allowed Hugo to guide him back down to the floor.
In the following moments, I watched Hugo carefully tend to the male. It appeared as though Hugo only saw a patient, not a prisoner who needed breaking. That was one area in which the older male and I differed.
I didn’t mind getting my hands dirty to do what needed to be done.
Soon enough, the male’s skin had been cleaned and had begun healing from the ointments, and his bones had been set back into place by Hugo.
He wasn’t back to normal by any means—the affected skin was either scabbed over or extremely raw, and he groaned every time he moved, likely from his bones being set but not fully healed.
Healing, even with the help of elixirs and spreads, took time nowadays.
Though the fae hadn’t always been that way, it was our reality now, and that was all that mattered.
Plus, his slow healing benefitted me. He’d remember his lesson this time.
Having done all he could for the prisoner, Hugo packed his vials and such back into his leather bag, slinging it over his shoulder with care. To my surprise, instead of addressing Hugo, the prisoner looked towards me, meeting my gaze without an ounce of the fear I’d seen before in his eyes.
“I thank the Stars Aviva escaped you,” he stated. It hadn’t been said with hatred, but rather as though it were a simple fact.
As though that single sentence didn’t add to the weight on my soul.
I grit my teeth to stop myself from flinching at his words, but something must have shown in my gaze. He looked satisfied with himself, as if he’d actually gotten to me.
The audacity.
I lunged for him, that fiery rage building in my veins once again, but was quickly pulled off course by Hugo, his hands around my arm.
“My pr-king, if you attack him again, you’re allowing his words to get to you. Snap out of it,” Hugo said—always the voice of reason.
The prisoner hadn’t even flinched, hadn’t moved at all despite the obvious threat.
He is likely right, I thought.
Forcing myself to breathe deeply to calm the energy buzzing within me, I nodded to Hugo. He dropped his grip on me, taking a step back in the process. He cleared his throat, then uttered the words I’d been dreading to hear from him.
“Your Majesty, perhaps we should discuss the possibility of you returning to the daily elixirs.”
I froze, letting his words sink in. Ever so slowly, I turned my head to look at the older male with malice.
He flinched as his gaze met mine, averting his eyes to the floor instead.
“My apologies, my king. I simply am looking out for your best interests,” Hugo said, his voice coming out breathy. I ignored the way his hands had begun to shake slightly.
“Do not ever suggest that to me again, Hugo,” I said, my voice as calm and cold as I’d been trying to portray myself as to the world for so many years.
Hugo sputtered a quick, “Yes, Your Majesty,” before slipping from the room without looking back at the prisoner.
Of course Hugo would suggest the elixirs. Him and Father had forced me to take them for nearly my entire life—why wouldn’t that be his solution, now that him and Father could no longer control me?
When Father had been murdered and was no longer there to enforce the elixirs, I stopped taking them. The sickness I had endured afterwards was so awful, I considered Hugo’s suggestion to just take them again. I almost believed him when he said I’d been born with a defect and needed them.
Turned out he was wrong.
Without them, I was so much stronger.
I had nearly smacked the older trokav for his misguidance, but he’d sworn on the Stars above he had only told me what my father had told him before.
Maybe I should have punished him somehow, after all.
I ran a hand through my hair, pulling myself from my thoughts, then said to the only male left in the cell with me, “I would instruct you to keep this between us, but you won’t live long enough to tell anybody else, anyways.”
Without bothering to glance at the male with the dirty streak of white hair, I took my leave from the cell, securing it behind me.