Chapter 31 #2
He brings me into the bathing chamber and sets me on the wooden bench that sits alongside my tub. Dropping into a crouch before me, his forehead presses into mine and his hands cradle my jaw.
“Fucking gods,” he growls. “I thought I lost you.” His voice is harsh, but the crack filled with emotion sends a dagger through my heart.
I’ve only seen him let his walls down like this once before, and even back then, when we thought we had experienced the worst, it was nothing compared to how he is now.
His shoulders shake with shuddering breaths, and he squeezes his eyes shut.
I know he wants to be closer, to touch me, to show me his love in the way he feels it the most, but he won’t, not after the way my body was abused.
He would never inflict pain when he does everything in his power to keep me from feeling it.
“I thought so too.” I speak through the pain, through the lump forming in my throat, grateful that I can make any noise at all.
He lifts his chin, and my vision blurs as I watch his glassy eyes search mine.
His thumbs stroke my cheeks, and his eyes blaze a trail down my face, falling on my lips, then gliding lower to my throat. His jaw clenches at whatever he sees.
“I’m all right. I think,” I add.
He leans forward slowly, giving me every chance to tell him to stop, but I don’t. I may feel fragile, but that doesn’t apply to him. I need him. I need to feel his strength, to know that he is going to catch me if I fall. I need to feel his love.
His lips are soft as they press into mine ever so slightly, just enough to create a chasm in my chest. I don’t know what the pain behind his eyes would have looked like if I had succumbed to Dane’s attack. Thank the gods we will never find out.
“I tried to get to you.” His throat bobs as he swallows harshly.
Shame and guilt wash over his features, and his shoulders slump in defeat.
“Gods, I fucking tried, Lennox. I thought he had agreed. I thought he was going to let us disappear and take everything he wanted, but when he grabbed you, I couldn’t stop myself.
I wanted to kill every single one of them for keeping me from getting to you. ”
“I know,” I whisper. “I could hear you, but I knew it was too late. I didn’t want you to see it.”
It isn’t until then that I notice how much Weston’s body took the brunt of his attempt to get to me.
Trails of dried blood run down his face from gashes that have since clotted.
Others still bleed a dark red into his hair, the deep bruises beneath them matching the ones on his eye and along the length of his jaw.
And this is only what I can see on the surface.
Yet he never stopped. He never hesitated for even a moment to think about his own injuries or his own well-being.
He only wanted to get to me.
He wouldn’t stop until he got to me.
“If he took you away from me, he would have had to kill me because I would not have stopped until it was his throat being crushed beneath my fingers.”
Fear tightens my chest as I think about Weston meeting the same fate, and I can’t imagine a world without him and all the good he does for anyone he meets.
“Thank the gods my father didn’t let either of us have to endure that.”
He nods solemnly. “I should have thanked him for it.” He presses another soft kiss to my lips, and I know it is still taking everything he has to hold himself back. He meets my eyes again when he pulls away, and the sadness has been pushed aside, as the First Guard slips back into place.
“I need to go take care of things downstairs. Do you give me permission to do that?”
My fingertips begin to tingle, and my breaths shorten.
“You’re leaving?” My voice comes out as a squeak, and I wince at the pain from exertion. “No, don’t leave.”
“Breathe,” he coos as his thumbs stroke my skin again, trying to soothe and calm me, but it doesn’t work. I can barely think. Every possible scenario depicting reasons he wouldn’t return to me runs through my mind, and the loneliness that accompanies them threatens to swallow me whole.
“Don’t go,” I sob, and wrap my hands around his wrists, squeezing so tight that my fingernails dig into his skin. “Please. Don’t leave me.”
“I’m not leaving you, my queen. I have to make sure the castle is safe, and that everyone who was involved is in the dungeon. I need it to be safe for you to be here. But I need your permission to do that.”
He needs my permission, because it isn’t just a term of endearment anymore. It’s a name and title that would one day come to fruition, and that day is today.
I am the queen.
This isn’t Captain Weston. This is First Guard Weston, and I am his queen.
While he acted without orders when I was in immediate danger, he still requires my command when there is no threat to my life, and I have to be strong enough to give it.
I have to be strong enough to watch him walk away and know he will come back, that I have nothing to fear, despite everything in my body and mind screaming at me that I do.
I shudder and force my hands to release his wrists to settle in my lap. Dipping my chin, I say the only thing I can.
“Yes.”
“Thank you,” he says, and presses a kiss to my forehead before finding my eyes again. His gaze is fierce as he puts all of his sincerity behind his next words. “I will come back, my queen. I’m not going anywhere.”
I give him a tentative nod, and the muscles in my neck spasm as I do. I taste blood on my tongue when I bite down, doing anything to try to hide the fact that the simple movement caused so much pain.
A loud knock reverberates through my rooms, and Weston glances over his shoulder. The door is bolted, so no one can enter, but I don’t want him to walk away. Not yet.
“You need a healer,” I say, trying to stall him as the knock pounds loudly again.
“I will see a healer.” He rises and runs his fingers through my hair, pushing it back away from my face before his hand settles gently at the nape of my neck. “I’ll make sure you are safe, and I will be back as soon as I can.”
I feel the absence of his touch the moment he disappears back into my chambers, but I don’t move. The high-pitched creak of the bolt being removed from the door, followed by the turn of the handle, pulls all of my attention away from everything else.
“Someone needs to explain to me what is going on because I went to the queen’s room—” The sentence is interrupted by a loud gasp, followed by the rustle of a dress brushing the floors and the click of the latch falling back into place.
Tila. Weston told the guard to send her, but the memory vanished under all the rest until I heard her voice. And the gasp. I’d almost forgotten. Tila knows Weston, and she was nowhere near the throne room this morning. Seeing him again for the first time in so long clearly took her by surprise.
“Tila,” he says, his voice urgent. “You’re the only one I can trust with her. I need you to take care of her while I figure things out.”
“Weston? My…how did you…what—” She stumbles over her words, likely trying to process what her mind knows but what her eyes are seeing.
“I can’t explain, but the king is dead. The princess is the queen now, and I need to make sure there is no further threat. Can I trust you?” There isn’t even a beat of silence before she’s spitting her answer back at him.
“Yes, of course. Don’t insult me, young man, by ever questioning my loyalty. That girl is like my own.”
I can hear the fondness and gratefulness in his voice when he responds. “Thank you, Tila. Thank you.”
The hinges squeak as the door opens and then clicks closed again, and the rustle of Tila’s dress gets closer until she appears in the doorway.
“My gods,” she mutters as her hand settles on her chest. “My dear girl, what in the heavens has happened to you?”
“Hi Tila,” I say weakly, and watch as her gaze flickers to my neck then back to my face.
She pivots on her heel, leaving me alone in the bathing chamber once more. Her footsteps stomp along the stone floors before she’s yanking the door open again and barks commands outside.
“I need hot water drawn for the queen immediately. You go yourself and pull some food from the kitchen. No one enters this room unless it is the First Guard himself allowing it. Understood?”
There’s a mumbled response before the door slams closed, the bolt secured once again. Her footsteps pound again, faster this time, until she appears in the doorway, her mouth a thin line.
“Let’s get you cleaned up. Everything will be fine, Your Majesty.”