Chapter 36 Bandages & Blossoms
Chapter thirty-six
Bandages & Blossoms
“Will his father really…kill him? If you send him home like this?” I asked Oberon, peeling back the bandages from Antenor’s wing stumps while he slept.
The dressings were probably unnecessary, given how quickly I’d closed the wounds with magyk, but the Sisters had trained me too well and it was a habit at this point.
The entire morning after the attack, I’d wandered the forest with Sir Toby, looking for medicinal herbs and roots, accompanied by no less than half a dozen of Oberon’s guards.
Then, I’d spent several hours in Antenor’s room, chopping or grinding or crushing the ingredients, filling up jars, and cutting linen bandages.
It was dull, quiet work, but I needed something to keep my hands busy while my exhausted mind wandered.
All night, Antenor’s screams had played in my ears, keeping me from sleep and shredding my already fragile heart.
Oberon just sighed. “My cousin Mariaat is terribly proud, and terribly unpredictable. He has many children, but sees them mostly as commodities—pieces on his own personal chess board of ambition and control.”
“You did not answer my question,” I muttered as I prepared a clean bandage.
“Because I do not know what will happen.”
“Then let him stay here under your protection! Surely, as a king, you have that right…”
“Antenor will not stay here,” Oberon told me, rather sadly. “If he inherited only one thing from either of his fathers, it was pride. He will go home and face whatever Mariaat has in store for him, like a true prince and soldier is supposed to do.”
“It’s unconscionable,” I growled.
“It is, ultimately, his choice and not yours, Marina. You cannot even begin to understand what he has lost. In the Arden, wings are more of a decoration than anything else. Something that tells other folk who you are. In Antenor’s world, your wings are your strength.
If you cannot fly, you cannot fight, and if you cannot fight, you are nothing at all. ”
“Barbaric. As if people do not have anything else they can contribute to society.”
Oberon gave me a weary smile. “I shall count you among those who forget where Hippolyta and I came from.”
“But you two are different,” I said, finishing with the bandages and washing my hands in a pot of simmering water on the stove. “You left the Pallasian Court.”
“For reasons that had very little to do with the court itself,” Oberon said, then he changed tack and put his hands on my shoulders. “I am sorry, Marina, for any distress my absence has caused you these past few days. You were not the cause of it.”
“Titania?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at him. “She did not have to come, you know, but she sensed you were in danger. And she agreed to help with the Rot. When I’m ready, of course.”
If he was surprised, he hid it well. “I do not plan on subjecting you to that trial anytime soon. We must see to Antenor, and you must recover too, before we begin working with your magyk again.” I pursed my lips and went to answer a light knock on the door.
It was Ceres, carrying a clay vase filled with wildflowers, along with a basket full of yarn.
“Thought I’d brighten up this dusty, old room,” she said firmly. “I’ve got knitting to do, so I’ll keep my eye on him while you two have your meeting.”
“What meeting?” I asked Oberon. He just beckoned and led me out onto the stairs.
“Whoever attacked Antenor is still at large. Hippolyta has her soldiers searching, and we are all on high alert for any other attempts, but there is only so much they can do. Besides, someone needs to continue his investigation, since that is likely the reason he was targeted.”
We came into the library and were greeted enthusiastically by Sir Toby, whose tail smacked hard against my legs.
I knelt down to kiss his noses and when I straightened back up, I almost cried out in surprise.
Devil was standing near the window, reading from a small, red book.
Oberon was watching me, so I schooled my face into neutrality, but his smile was more indulgent than anything.
I could not help but wonder how much he already knew.
“You called, my lord,” said Devil, snapping the book shut and sliding it back onto the shelf.
“Puck, you will be taking over Antenor’s investigation now.” Oberon unrolled a large, vellum map of the Arden onto a table and placed copper weights on its corners.
“If it please you, my lord,” said Devil, “I do not answer to that name anymore.”
Oberon lifted his head slowly and my heart began to thunder.
What are you doing, idiot? I mouthed at Devil.
“You do not answer to the name I gave you?” Oberon asked.
Devil answered with a touch of frost in his voice. “You gave me nothing that was not already used by another. I might be your creation, but I am no longer your servant. I would have this choice for myself.”
Apparently speechless, Oberon’s retort, when it came, sounded annoyed rather than angry. “Let me guess…you wish to go by this other name? The one Marina has given you?”
“Yes, lord.”
I was thoroughly impressed with Devil’s ability to keep a straight face, when I was on the verge of cracking. When Oberon pinned me with a stare, I managed only a weak shrug.
“Sometimes, I think my greatest error was ever allowing the two of you to meet,” he sighed at last, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I do not care which name you use, Devil, so long as you obey when given instructions. Do you understand?”
“Of course, my lord,” Devil answered with a rather mocking salute.
I slid into a chair, disguising my laughter as a cough, and earned another glare from Oberon, who quickly began to explain where Antenor’s investigation had left off.
I listened as best I could, but I was still exhausted from the expense of so much magyk, and from lack of sleep.
“I think you need to go and lie down, Mayhem,” said a gentle voice beside me. I startled, having completely drifted off while staring out the window. Devil was crouched beside me now, holding Oberon’s map under one arm. But the faerie king himself was nowhere to be seen.
“Yes, I…I’m quite tired,” I mumbled. “Come on, Sir Toby.” The hound rose as I lifted myself from the chair, and pressed his body against me for support.
“I must go,” Devil said, taking my hand, “but I’ll check on you this evening, I promise.”
“Oh, have you been given permission to lurk about now?”
“Lurking is my speciality, but I think his Lordship has finally realized that any attempt to keep me away from you would be entirely futile. After all, I am his most persistent and lovesick creature.” He pressed his lips to the back of my hand, then turned it over and did the same to my palm and wrist. I slipped my hand out of his grasp and around the back of his neck, pulling him into a soft kiss.
Just as his hand snaked around my waist, however, pulling me against him, I wriggled free.
“Persistent, indeed,” I hummed quietly against his mouth.
With a playful smile and only a brief glance back over my shoulder, I led Sir Toby out of the library.
Devil watched us go, leaning on a table and grinning, but only once I was back in my room did I realize that he had somehow tucked a folded piece of paper into the long sleeve of my shirt.
I fished it out, feeling a little scandalized when I realized it had been torn from a book.
Nevertheless, I unfolded it and sat on my bed to read the poem printed beneath the image of a rowan tree.
Come to me with every fear,
twist my arm & bend my ear.
Wrap me up inside your mind,
tangled in the ties that bind.
For you, I’d forfeit food & sleep.
For you, I’d sow, but never reap.
To burn your kiss beneath my skin,
I’d mire myself in earthly sin.
Cast upon me all your doubt,
so I may put each one to rout.
I swear it here, before your throne,
this love for you lives in my bones.
– Cicero Cade
A foolish smile overtook my face, and I fell backwards onto the bed, but allowed myself only a moment of girlish swooning before going to my desk.
On a scrap of parchment, I scribbled a brief, rude note, then folded the entire thing into the shape of a bird—a silly little trick Sister Jazmina had taught me once, but the perfect way to send Devil a message.
Out on the balcony, with the paper bird sitting on my flat palm, I called up my shadows and blew gently, letting them carry it away on its maiden voyage through the Arden.
“Stay out of my library, you menace,” I whispered in its wake, knowing that he was somewhere nearby, listening.
“If you don’t eat, you won’t make it home at all,” I grumbled at the sight of yet another untouched plate on Antenor’s nightstand. “One might almost question your commitment to sacrificing yourself in the name of honor.”
He turned his head just enough to glare at me, then faced the wall in silence again.
I raised my eyebrow at Sir Toby, who had taken up a post at the foot of the bed and refused to move, save for meals and walks.
Carefully, I unwrapped the bandages from his wing stumps, but Antenor flinched when I touched them with my magyk.
“They’re healed over,” he snapped. “You needn’t do that.”
“I am just checking for infections,” I replied curtly, then cleared my throat and tried to soften my tone. “Have you…been able to remember anything else?”
“No,” he murmured. “Just the…claws.” I swept my gaze over the dozens of brutal slash marks on his upper arms and face. I’d done my best to heal them over, especially the one marring his eye, but he would be permanently and severely scarred.
“You can stay here,” I murmured, sitting beside him on the bed. “You don’t have to do this. Please don’t do this…”
“You should have killed me.”
“Antenor…” Whatever I’d been about to say was drowned out by a sharp knock. The door opened and Oberon stepped into the room, followed by Simeon.