Chapter Fourteen #3
Her hand rested on my cheek. I forced my eyes upwards. Her eyes were very blue.
“I told you to submit,” she said. And then she stood, and I watched her slippers move almost soundlessly on the thick carpet, over to the chaise longue beside the fire.
I laid my head flat again and closed my eyes against the pain.
I lay on the carpet, limp as a dress discarded after a night of dancing, and was paid as little attention.
I suppose I must have passed out. When I swam to the surface of myself, I heard Milady and Ban Morin talking.
“There is a limit to how much we can do without the book,” he was saying. A clink, and then the sound of wine filling a glass. “And you are no closer to finding it.”
“The Book Man was a miscalculation,” she said. “I didn’t know my sister had worked with him, or that he was harboring the girl.”
“You should have.”
Milady’s voice sharpened. “How, exactly? My sister has hidden from me for twenty years. She is very skilled at wards and concealment. You have no idea of her power.”
“I have a very good idea of her power, which is exactly why I want to be the one to wield it.” His voice came closer, became softer.
“Let us not quarrel. We will find it. And until then, we have the girl, which is the next best thing. Her own power has a certain … piquancy. I am interested to explore its limits.”
“My love,” she said, and I heard a purr in her voice. “Do I not bring you the greatest gifts?”
There was a crowded silence and the rustle of fabric. I imagined their kiss, and my stomach turned.
I fell into blackness again. I was barely aware of the maidservants who lifted me by the elbows and marched me down the corridor to my bedroom, releasing me just inside the door so that I fell to my knees on the floor.
Baldbeak was tapping frantically at the window, hard enough to chip the glass.
It felt an insurmountable distance away, but I managed to drag myself over to the casement, fumbling at the latch with numb fingers until it came loose, and the glass swung open just wide enough for the raven to wriggle through.
He seemed to know I was in pain; he did not hop to my shoulder, as usual, but flapped to the bedpost and perched there, puffing himself up a little against the chill and making small, concerned noises, little clicks and mutterings.
Are you all right?
“I will be,” I murmured, hoping it was true.
I will stay with you.
“Thank you.”
It seemed too much effort to move my limbs, and the thought of the fabric of my clothing sliding against my skin made me feel ill.
Instead, I pushed each boot off with the toe of the other foot and left them where they fell, then climbed as slowly and carefully as I could onto the bed, fully dressed.
Its softness felt like a blessing. I lowered myself onto the mattress gently, even that little amount of friction making my skin burn, until finally I could rest my head on the pillow.
My Hair lay limp on the pillow beside me, not moving at all.
I started to reach out a hand to touch it, but it was too painful and took too much effort, and I let it drop.
Baldbeak made another of those low muttering sounds.
There was a disturbance in the air of the room. A familiar presence. Mieka.
“They kept me away,” she said, and I heard the tears in her voice. “They wouldn’t let me come to you.”
“Mieka,” I said in barely more than a whisper.
In a few quick steps, she was across the room. I felt a weight at the edge of the mattress as she sat. Even that small movement made my limbs ache again. I opened my eyes and saw her silhouette, barely visible in the little starlight that managed to spill through the window.
“What did she do to you?”
“Not her,” I managed to say. “Him.”
She stroked my Hair back from my forehead.
“Water,” I mumbled into the pillow. The pitcher was across the room, and it seemed a hundred miles away. She poured me a glass and held it against my lips.
“Patrick …” I began, intending to ask if she had heard more from him.
“He is not here,” she said. “I wish he were. But I can call him, through the ravens. He will come if you ask him to.”
“No,” I whispered, barely audible.
“Netta …” I felt rather than heard her sigh.
“I cannot stay here, but I do not want to go with him,” I said. To my own ear, my voice sounded slurred, almost drunk.
“You are so stubborn,” she murmured.
“It’s a family trait,” I managed.
“How can I convince you that he is to be trusted in this?”
I shook my head very slightly.
“Ban Morin will break you,” said Mieka. “He might even kill you. He is not a man who knows the meaning of restraint.”
“I will find my own way out,” I murmured. Sleep was pulling me under despite myself. I felt the mattress shift again as Mieka stood. I opened my eyes.
“Wait.”
The shadow stilled. “What is it?”
“Will you … stay a while? Just don’t leave yet. Stay until I fall asleep.”
“Of course. I will stay all night, if they let me.”
She sat down again, resting her hand on mine, and though it was as soft as a moth’s wing, I felt the touch as I fell asleep.