Chapter 54
PARDON?
HOURS LATER, FELíNE SAT SLOUCHED against a wall in the conference hall’s refectory.
She’d spent a restless night at Saul’s bedside, closely monitoring his status.
Beulah, her duty as fretful nurse having been relieved, had busied herself in the kitchen, whipping up some culinary masterpiece the likes of which only a professional could achieve.
The smells of roasting meat and herbed bread were enough to make Felíne’s stomach cramp with hunger.
Penn had arrived some time ago to check on his mother after ensuring Beaumont Stonehaugh’s injuries were sufficiently tended to, something Kal surmised the grizzled warrior tolerated with threadbare patience.
Penn had not been surprised to find Beulah in front of a stove.
Cooking was how she managed stress, he’d explained.
Felíne supposed she managed stress by staring blankly into oblivion. It was all she could find the energy for at present.
Kal located her hiding spot and slid to the floor to sit beside her. He was in first form now, freshly showered and clothed. He’d spent his night monitoring her, encouraging Felíne to trade shifts with him so she could sleep and brewing her coffee when she’d doggedly refused. Bless the man.
The puncture marks marring Kal’s neck had faded to faint pink pricks, the only interruption in the otherwise smooth column of tanned skin.
He glanced across the room at the empty table, then back to where Felíne sat slumped next to him on the floor.
If her mother were here, she’d have fainted upon witnessing her daughter’s atrocious posture.
“Couldn’t find a suitable chair?” Kal teased.
Felíne nudged his shoulder. “It didn’t feel…grounding enough.”
Kal only nodded, somehow intuiting her meaning. His new scars puckered with the movement.
“You heal remarkably fast,” she noted. “Faster than any shurii I’ve ever seen.” Her voice quieted. “I wasn’t sure it would work. Removing that skullcage so you could shift. I thought your body might not mend quickly enough. I thought…”
Kal placed a warm, reassuring palm on her knee.
“It did, though. Thanks to your quick thinking and Santhe’s sure hands.
” He rested his head back against the wall, damp curls glistening with moisture.
“Possessing blood of the Godking’s chosen line has its advantages, it seems. I’ve always healed quickly. ”
Felíne hadn’t thought of that. Perhaps he was right. Sharing blood with the Primordial Male may have contributed to Kal’s ferocious second form and his rapid cellular rejuvenation.
“How is Saul?” she asked, changing the subject to prevent Kal’s mood from slipping into darkness at the mention of his only remaining family. She’d finally succumbed to exhaustion and left her patient’s bedside close to four in the morning.
He met her gaze. “On the mend. Thanks entirely to you.”
She sighed, relieved that her efforts proved worthwhile. “I’m glad. It will take some time for the antidote to purge the morticana from his system. He’ll need to drink the tonic I made him for the next week at least. And he should shift as soon as he’s regained sufficient strength to do so.”
Felíne shuddered to think of the state in which they’d found Saul Leino when they’d arrived yesterday.
Mender Stroupe, bless him, had been doing his utmost to stave off Saul’s persisting fever with little success.
Without quick intervention, Saul’s body temperature would have risen to a damaging degree.
Next would have come febrile seizures and potential brain injury, something no antidote in Ilistaar could have reversed.
“Lucky for him, he’ll be under the watchful eye of the most talented mender in the eastern lands.”
Did he mean her? Felíne swallowed. She was no exceptional talent.
She knew how to prepare poultices and sew minor wounds.
She understood basic anatomy and had a mind for herbal tinctures and brews.
But Felíne wasn’t a surgeon. And beyond that, Kal’s words implied she would be around to monitor Saul’s recovery.
They both knew she wouldn’t be, even if only one of them was willing to accept it.
“Kal,” she began. How did she tell him she couldn’t stay? That she had to return to Asteros despite her dread to do so? That duty demanded she leave him? Felíne’s eyes found their home in Kal’s black gaze. How did she pull her own heart from her chest and crush it in her fist?
Santhe entered the refectory a moment later, saving Felíne from having to further contemplate such impossible questions.
“There you are,” she said with a tired smile.
Though Felíne could see the exhaustion coloring the slighter woman’s features, there was relief in her expression.
“Saul’s awake. He’d like to see you both. ”
Beulah stuck her head out of the kitchen, reminding Felíne that she and Kal had not been alone. Flour dusted the front of her tunic, and she held a bunch of half-chopped parsley in one hand. “He’s awake?”
Santhe nodded. Kal pushed off the floor and helped Felíne to her feet. “Let’s not keep him waiting,” he said to the women. “Averting death makes a man terribly impatient to live.”
The only thing Saul appeared impatient to do was get back to work, judging by the documents and ink bottle that now occupied his bedside table. He glanced up from scrawling on a page when they knocked and entered.
He offered a smile, and though his complexion was still far too pale, his lids heavy, and his posture supported by a thick stack of pillows, the expression was genuine. Felíne approached the bed.
“May I?”
Saul nodded and offered his wrist. She set her fingers along the thumb side groove between bone and tendon to feel for the pulsating artery. Steady, strong, and appropriately paced. “Well,” Felíne said, “I’m no longer concerned for your heart, Mr. Leino.”
Beulah whisked away the parchment cluttering the table and replaced it with a steaming bowl filled with tender white meat, rice, and thick broth. Santhe poured a tall wooden mug with fresh, unpoisoned tea and added a few drops of Felíne’s tonic, setting it next to the bowl.
Kal leaned heavily against the wall, arms crossed, a sardonic smile playing across his lips as he watched the three women attend the ailing man. “Perhaps I should invite someone to poison me, Saul,” he mused. “The recovery draws the unwavering attention of single, claimed, and married women.”
Saul glowered. As did the women.
Kal winked at Felíne.
Beulah was married. Santhe was single, as far as she knew. And Felíne was most definitely claimed. But to whose claim was he referring? Her stomach did a cartwheel.
“I didn’t ask you here to mock my woes, Kalevar,” Saul replied, coughing slightly.
“Why did you ask us here?” Felíne inquired.
“To formally grant you a full pardon, Kitty,” Saul said. “Before witnesses.”
Felíne’s lips parted. “I…” She didn’t know what to say.
Despite Lucien Cross and Rask’s conspiring, Felíne had fully expected to answer for the lingering accusation against her.
Saul Leino was a good man, but he was also a just one, and he protected the interests of his people with unfaltering affirmation. “But I broke the law.”
“Maybe let’s forego your self-sacrificial impulses for a day,” Kal suggested.
Felíne resisted the impulse to flip him a rude gesture.
“Kitty,” Beulah said, taking her hands. “You saved this man’s life. Allow him to repay you in the way he knows best, hm?”
“Will the people of Meress accept such a pardon?” Felíne inquired.
Saul readjusted one of his pillows. “They will. You performed an unquestioning act of loyalty to Meress in saving me.” He fixed her with twinkling chestnut eyes.
“There was nothing in it for you. That kind of altruism is written into our bylaws as a stipulation for circumventing an inquiry.” Saul waved a rolled sheaf of paper tied with a garnet ribbon.
“Since when?” Felíne asked.
“Since I suggested the addendum some years ago,” Kal replied.
“You?”
Kal’s lips twitched at her disbelief. “I can be diplomatic when I choose to be.”
Of course, he could. He was the son of a great lord and lady. The heir to Brightsea and the whole eastern shore. Kal had likely been trained from a young age to inherit a realm and all the responsibilities that accompanied its oversight.
Felíne looked back at Saul. “Thank you. I truly did not expect this. I’m only happy Lucien was unable to accomplish what he intended.”
“As am I, Kitty,” Saul said. “Freeing you to make a life here, should you choose,” at this, he glanced knowingly at Kal, “is the least I could offer for what you’ve contributed. I do hope you stay. Our infirmary would greatly benefit from your knowledge and skill.”
Across the room, Santhe stilled, likely considering the truths that Saul and Beulah remained ignorant of. Truths that would arguably change their view and Saul’s offer.
Regardless, sudden emotion unfurled in Felíne’s chest. Would that she had such freedoms. And yet, at the mention of them, with the knowledge that such a future lay forever beyond her desperate reach, Felíne felt more shackled than she had when bolted to that iron rod in the city square.
Saul made quick work of signing the required contracts for Felíne’s legal absolution. Beulah added her name with a sweeping flourish and wrapped Felíne in a brief, smothering hug. Kal penned his own name on the document with simple, slanting strokes.
A copy would be added to Meress’s archive. Another would be made available to the community after Saul had recovered enough to address the public in a formal capacity.
Santhe, Felíne, and Kal excused themselves from the room shortly thereafter to allow Saul time to rest. Beulah stayed behind to clean the kitchen and wait for Mender Stroupe’s return. The three of them stepped out into the late morning.
“I suppose I’ll go check in with the girls and see if they need any assistance in the bakery,” Santhe announced, referencing Beulah’s daughters. “What will you do?” The woman’s question was directed at Kal, but her brown eyes settled briefly on Felíne.
“I need to stop by The Hollows,” Kal answered. To reassure himself that Rask Harless still occupied one of the barred pits, no doubt. Felíne would excuse herself from that venture. She had no desire to return to the dreadful place. “Then, home?”
Kal’s dark gaze held hers with a tentative hope that broke her heart.
Home. Felíne worried that the only place she would ever truly belong was at this man’s side.
Sharing a fire-lit cavern. Dancing through a whiskey dream.
Together in the forest, walking a path that gods once tread.
Shackled on a dais before a seething mob.
It didn’t matter what space they occupied.
Nor what manner of chaos surrounded them.
If Kal was next to her, near her, Felíne was home.
She was just about to reply when a commotion disturbed her musings.
Kal’s superb hearing picked up on something beyond her comprehension, but whatever it was soured her gut.
His focus fixed on the distant space between two buildings, toward one of the main roads where a group of people gathered, and his expression took on a dangerous edge.
“Kal…” Santhe murmured, her own attention drawn to the gathering.
To the lone rider that, just moments before, thundered to a halt amidst the throng.
Felíne had just about had enough with crowds. She decided right then and there that congregations of more than three people spelled trouble. She desired nothing more than to hermit herself away into an isolated burrow filled with a hoard of books, abundant snacks, and endless cups of tea.
“What is it?” Felíne asked, dreading the answer.
Santhe was already heading toward the commotion. “That’s a perimeter scout.”
Kal took her by the hand and followed after Santhe. Felíne had the sudden urge to dig her heels in and run the opposite direction.
“Why is this concerning?”
Kal’s eyes were like pitch. His countenance matched. “The only reason a perimeter scout abandons their post is to communicate a direct threat to Meress.”
“But we’re in the heart of a forest that spans for miles,” Felíne protested.
She hadn’t been able to escape capture among the expanse of densely growing trees.
And she was one woman. There was a reason the Cozened had chosen this location for their sanctuary.
The wood was nigh unbreachable. “What could possibly threaten this city?”
Kal didn’t answer. They’d reached the main road.
Vorak and Stef were among those gathered, wearing identical stony expressions. Vorak nodded to the rider as they approached. The scout wheeled his bay mount and departed at a canter. Vorak’s emerald gaze found them.
Kal didn’t have to ask.
“There’s been an envoy,” Vorak said as though announcing the end of all good things. “From Asteros.”
Felíne’s heart stilled. Kalevar’s audibly thundered in comparison. The words weren’t even out of Vorak’s mouth yet, and she wanted him to take them back.
He didn’t.
“King Domitan Faelstrom is coming.”