Chapter 15 Elaina
ELAINA
Xaren walks swiftly down the hallway, ignoring the curious stares of the Nobles who have been idling around the door to the parlor, eavesdropping on the proceedings. No doubt they heard everything because I see them whispering to each other and pointing at us both.
I’m trailing behind him because I’m not leaving him alone after what he did for me. No one has ever taken a beating for me before—especially not such a brutal one. He’s going to need someone to treat the whip wounds—you can never reach your own back.
So it is that, even though I swore only that morning to never, ever darken his doorway again, I follow him down the steps that lead to his rooms.
Xaren doesn’t want to let me come in, though. He turns to me, a look of pain and irritation on his dark face.
“What are you doing here?” he demands and I see he’s back to being rude and nasty again. Well, this time it’s not going to work.
“I’m going to help you,” I said, lifting my chin. “There’s no use in fighting about it,” I add. “You took my punishment—the least I can do is treat your wounds.”
“So now you fancy yourself a physician, little dove?” He raises one black eyebrow mockingly at me.
“Look, you’re not scaring me off with sarcasm or nastiness or bad manners,” I tell him. “And I’m not interested in hearing about how your Drake ‘wants me’ either. I’m coming in with you and that’s it.”
His face twists for a moment…then he heaves a sigh and shrugs.
“Fine. Come in if you want to.”
“I do,” I say firmly. I follow him into his rooms and the doors shut behind us. As soon as it does, I take the lead and head for the bathing chamber. I start running water in the huge marble tub.
When the tub is halfway full, I locate a sponge and then go to get Xaren. He’s sitting on a chair to one side of his bed, making sure not to lean back against it. His eyes are closed and his face is tense.
“Come on.” I take his hand. He flinches at first…then lets me lead him. I sit him on the edge of the tub and tie up my sleeves. Then I dip the sponge in the water and squeeze it over his bloody back.
Xaren hisses between his teeth but doesn’t flinch as I do it again and again.
The water in the tub turns pink and his back is finally revealed as the blood is washed away.
The wounds are horrific. I’m glad I didn’t eat breakfast because the sight makes me queasy.
But I keep going, reminding myself that he did this for me… though I still don’t know why.
“Why did you take my whipping?” I ask in a low voice. I might as well try to find out. “You didn’t have to do it.”
“Yes, I did. I couldn’t let you get hurt, little dove.” He turns his head to look over one broad shoulder. “You’re my wife—it’s my job to protect you. Even from my own mother,” he adds and there’s a depth of bitterness in his voice that makes me shudder. I wonder if she knows how much he hates her.
“What did you mean?” I ask. “When you said she wouldn’t pay the ransom? What ransom?”
His whole body stiffens and I’m afraid I’ve gone too far—I shouldn’t have asked. But then his broad shoulders sag and he sighs deeply.
“When I was thirteen, I was taken from the Citadel,” he says.
He’s turned around again so I can’t see his face. I continue to squeeze water over his back and listen as he speaks.
“Taken by who?” I ask in a low voice, hoping to keep him talking.
“Kidnappers who wanted the royal ransom only a Crown Prince will bring. Because yes, back then I was the Crown Prince,” he goes on. “Though I knew I wouldn’t be for long if my Drake didn’t come out.”
“I don’t understand,” I say. “What do you mean by your Drake coming out?”
He sighs.
“All males of the Royal blood have a Drake inside them, as you know. It emerges when we Shift for the first time, taking dragon form.” He rolls his shoulders, wincing. “Legend says there used to be females with Drakes in them too, but none has been seen for over a hundred years.”
“So you turn into your Drake?” I ask, curious about the process. The idea of female Drakes I discount entirely—it seems like a mere fantasy. Conventional wisdom says a woman wouldn’t be strong enough to harbor a huge, fire-breathing beast inside her.
“It’s more like I let him out and join him in his form. We have two separate consciousnesses and yet we are merged. It’s…difficult to explain.”
“I think I understand,” I say. “So…your Drake was reluctant to come out?”
“He hadn’t made himself known yet—I hadn’t Shifted. Usually with a Royal male, the first Shift happens around eleven or twelve. I could feel him in me, but he wasn’t ready to come out.” He shrugs and then winces as the sponge I’m using brushes one of the raw wounds on his back. “Fuck!”
“Sorry.” I pull back hurriedly. “I think this is as clean as I can get it. Do you have any healing salve I can use? Or bandages?”
He shakes his head.
“That’s not necessary. My Drake will heal me from within, in a day or two. I’ll just be uncomfortable until then.”
“Then let me pat you dry. I swear, I’ll be gentle.” I rise to get a towel but I want him to keep talking. “So your Drake hadn’t come out yet when the kidnappers took you?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “They took me up into the mountains to a cave and kept me tied hand and foot so I couldn’t do a damn thing to escape.
” His voice is tight. “They sent a ransom letter to my parents. Of course they addressed it to my father, the King, but he’s been half senile for years and even before that, my mother led him around by his beard.
” He gives a humorless laugh. “Or maybe by another part of his anatomy.”
“I see,” I say quietly. I can well believe that my Mother-in-law is running the show around here. No one in the Citadel dares to cross her, whereas the King, they mostly ignore.
“So they sent a ransom letter and they got a reply.” He shifts on the edge of the marble tub as I start to gently blot his wounded back dry, but doesn’t complain. “I remember nearly crying in relief because I was certain my parents were going to pay and that I would be home safe very soon.”
He falls silent for so long I have to prod him gently.
“But…they didn’t pay?” I ask.
He shakes his head.
“No. My mother wrote back that the Royal family refused to treat with criminals or some such nonsense. It was a short note and very dry. But I knew it was real—when they showed it to me, I saw my mother’s signature and the Royal seal.”
“That’s awful!” I say indignantly. “How could she not pay to get you back?”
“She said later she was sure I could take care of myself,” he says dryly. “Only…I couldn’t. Not at that age. I hadn’t gotten my growth yet. And they had me tied, as I said. The kidnappers grew angry. They…”
He trails off and his shoulders tense.
“They…hurt you?” I ask in a hushed voice. Something tells me he needs to talk about this. This old wound is filled with poison and it’s been festering for years. It needs to be drained.
“They tortured me,” he says at last. It’s as though the words are dragged from him but at least he’s still speaking.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. I’m standing behind him, the bloody towel clutched in my hands, as he sits on the edge of the tub. He’s turned to one side so I can reach his back. I can’t see his face, but I can hear the pain in his voice.
“They cut me—first they just wanted to draw my blood so they could smear some on another ransom letter, which they sent to my parents,” he says.
“I was sure that would make them pay the ransom…but no.” He gives a bitter laugh.
“My mother sent back the same reply—the Royal family doesn’t treat with criminals.
That…made the kidnappers angry. So they began torturing me for fun. ”
“What…what did they do?” I whisper faintly. I don’t really want to know, but again, I get the feeling he needs to tell me.
“Cut me, mostly. They cut off one of my ears to see if it would grow back. It did. My Drake is capable of that. They sent it to my mother—not that it changed her mind.”
I suck in a breath.
“Oh my Goddess of Mercy!”
“Don’t sound so shocked,” he says dryly. “That wasn’t nearly the worst thing they did. They tried to take my eye, too.”
“Your scar…” I say and put out a hand to touch the side of his face…but then I draw back, fearing he might not want me to.
“My eye couldn’t grow back—it’s more complex than an ear, I guess,” he said.
“It’s one reason my Drake is always on display—he sees for me on the left side because I cannot.
But he didn’t come out all at once, so for a while I was blind on that side.
” He shakes his head. “I remember lying on the cold stone floor, bleeding and crying, hating my mother for not paying the ransom…wishing I was dead so it would just be over.”
“Oh, Xaren…” I can’t keep the tears back any longer. The image of him as a boy lying in the dark, feeling so alone and abandoned twists my heart. My tears roll off my cheeks and fall like rain unheeded.
His back twitches.
“Are you crying for me, little dove?” he asks, and his voice is dull. “Don’t bother—it was a long time ago.”
“It doesn’t matter how long ago it was—it still hurts you,” I protest. “I can’t understand why your mother would refuse to pay the ransom and save you!”
“She wanted my Drake to come out, I suspect,” he says. “And if it didn’t come out, why, then she was rid of me—rid of a useless son who had no Drake, which was what she thought I was.” He shakes his head. “Dorian was always her favorite. Anyway, she got her wish about my Drake. When they—”
He stops abruptly.
“When they what?” I’m not sure I want to know.
It seems Xaren doesn’t want to tell me, either.
“Never mind,” he says in a low voice. “They did things that broke me. They took…took things I wasn’t ready to give to anyone.”
I suddenly remember Tanzy’s story of how he beat the stable boys who were trying to rape the milkmaid. And then I think of how he’s refused to take me when I didn’t really want him to. Could it be that the kidnappers did to him what I saw Henri doing to Dorian? Only against his will?
The thought is horrifying…yet all too plausible. If that was done to Xaren, no wonder he hates rapists. More tears fall from my eyes as I think of what he endured. But I have to keep him talking—I feel like he needs to get the whole sordid incident out in the open.
“So…” I say softly. “So they hurt you and…and your Drake finally came out?”
He nods.
“I Shifted for the first time and ripped them all to shreds. Then I burned the remains to a fucking crisp.” There’s a note of grim satisfaction in his voice.
“I don’t blame you!” I exclaim. “I’m glad you were able to free yourself—no thanks to your family! They abandoned you.”
“Yes, I was thinking the same thing. Which is why I flew home and tried to burn down the Citadel,” he says blandly.
I suck in a breath.
“You did?”
He nods.
“If my Drake had been bigger, I would have succeeded. But he hadn’t gotten his growth yet either. My Uncle was still alive then. He Shifted into his own Drake—which was many times larger—and forced me to stop.”
“I wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d burned it to the ground!” I say fiercely. “Your mother and family betrayed you! Of course you wanted vengeance!”
He gives a rumbling laugh and looks over his shoulder at me.
“Bloodthirsty little thing, aren’t you?”
“I’m angry!” I say, clenching my fists. “At the way you were treated—it’s wrong. It’s not normal to be that way with your child. My mother and father would have done anything to get me back in that situation.”
“Then you’re lucky, little dove.” He sighs. “At any rate, they used it as an excuse to put my brother in my place. That’s how Dorian came to be the Crown Prince—not that I really care.”
“He’s not going to make a very good King,” I remark. “He’s too spoiled.”
“And I would?” Xaren barks a laugh. “I tried to burn the Royal Citadel to the ground!”
“Because you were young and angry—and you had a right to be angry,” I emphasize. It feels to me like everyone has blamed him all his life for what he did—I want him to know he had a right to try and seek justice for himself. I would have done the same in his place.
“I could have killed a lot of innocent people,” he points out.
“If you mean the Nobles, they’re all stuck-up snobs,” I say frankly. “I’m not saying they ought to get burned to death for their snobbery, but I don’t think the world would be a poorer place without them.”
“Well—you’re full of opinions.” He laughs again and flexes his shoulders. “Hey—my back isn’t nearly as painful as it was. What did you do to it?”
“Do to it?” I repeat stupidly. “Nothing, I just…” Then I pause and look down at his broad back.
After blotting him dry, I’ve been trying not to look because the raw, wounded flesh makes my stomach clench.
But now I make myself look and I’m shocked to see that most of the whip wounds have started to heal up.
They’re mostly pink lines now rather than raw, open slashes.
The only other thing I see on his back are water droplets.
No, wait—I blotted his back dry. Those aren’t water droplets…they’re tears. My tears.
“Well?” Xaren frowns as he stands up. He swings his arms back and forth, making his shoulders and back flex. “What did you do?” he asks me.
“I, er…I cried on you,” I say, hoping he won’t be mad. “Not on purpose, I just…”
“You what?” He turns to face me, a startled look on his face. Then he goes to the mirror on the far wall of the bathing chamber and turns to look over his shoulder. “You healed me!” He sounds like he can barely believe it. “Your tears…they healed me.”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” I object. “I mean, I’ve never healed anyone with my tears before.”
“You’ve never been married before either,” he points out.
I have no idea what that has to do with anything.
“I’m glad you’re better, but I really don’t think—”
“I’m not sure either,” he interrupts. He gives me a piercing look. “I guess we’ll see.”
Again, I have no idea what he’s talking about, but at least we seem to be getting along. I spread my hands.
“Well…what now?” What I mean is, what are we going to do about the ultimatum the Queen gave us? But that’s clearly not what’s on Xaren’s mind.
“Now we go out riding,” he says. “Or we can sit in one of the more public parlors and play chess. Anywhere the Nobles can see us so they’ll know we aren’t cowed.”
“What—really?” I say. “Do you think that’s wise?”
“I want my family to know we aren’t beaten,” he growls. “We’re going to dinner tonight, too. This isn’t over, little dove.”