Chapter 33
I wake to my name spoken from very close.
Alaris is bent over me.
“Ly. It’s me.” He steps back from the bedside. “It’s morning. The healer is here.”
The curtains pull back and a woman in a powder-blue robe steps in, older than the man from yesterday, and unfamiliar.
She crosses to me and takes my wrist. Her hands are warm against my skin. She counts my pulse, examines the sealed cut on my arm, and rewraps my ankle. I hold still, trying not to feel disappointed as Alaris stands back with his arms folded.
She finishes and steps away. “Pulse is fast. Color is poor. You’re not ready to be up and about. You should stay in bed, with minimal exertion only.”
I open my mouth to argue, but Alaris catches my eye, and I close it.
“Thank you,” he says to the healer. “I’ll be right back,” he says to me.
I adjust myself higher on the pillow and do my best to smooth my hair.
He returns a moment later with two people in tow: a maid with a straw-colored braid I’ve seen around the castle, and a wiry older man.
“Ly, this is my footman Walder, and a maid who will attend to you, Flora. Aside from Dashol and Karns, they will be the only ones coming into the room while I’m not here. They’ll bring your meals, and you can call on them for anything you need.”
He gestures to the velvet cord hanging by my bedside, which was surely here so he could ring for staff from his writing desk before I occupied this corner.
Alaris knows I’m scared. He is making sure I won’t be frightened by anyone in this space. “Thank you.”
“Thank you both,” he says, dismissing them. After the door closes behind them, he adds: “They’ll also be discreet. The staff already knows you’re here, but no one needs to know you’re in a separate bed. Now, is there anything I can get you? Anything that would make you more comfortable?”
I shake my head. “You’ve spent far too much time on me already.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
“I’m fine. Really.”
“Ly.” His voice drops. “You told me everything was fine all this time, while you knew a man was trying to kill you. Forgive me if ‘I’m fine’ doesn’t settle it.”
I pick at the blanket. “Well, I can’t help it if I really am fine.”
He tilts his head, the crystal at his ear swinging. “Why is a princess so bad at saying what she wants?”
Every time he mentions my rank, it feels like an insult. “Perhaps everyone isn’t as all-consumed with their own pleasure as you.”
“Hmm.” His low voice hums over me. “That’s not what I find myself ‘all-consumed’ by lately.”
“That’s exactly why I shouldn’t take up even more of your time.”
“Don’t think of it as asking for what you want. Think of it as my recovery.”
“Your recovery?”
“After watching you bleeding.” His voice softens. “It would make me feel a lot better if you would ask for one thing just because you want it. Not because you need it to feel safe, just for joy. Just one thing.”
This is what he thinks is appropriate for a princess, I remind myself. This is what he probably thinks I’m used to.
I stare at the blanket. What do I want?
“Could I…” I stop. It’s stupid.
“Come on now,” he says, lip twitching. “I know you can do it.”
“Ugh.”
“With words, Ly.”
“Ugh!” I repeat louder, scowling. “The fur. From the aviary.”
“Done.” His smile makes my scowl deepen. He turns and strides away.
“It’s just warmer than these,” I call after him. “And it smells like…”
You. I cut myself off before I say something foolish, but I needn’t have. The door is already closing. I don’t think he listened to a word of my explanation.
Now I’m left to lie here and squirm. I hope he isn’t personally going all the way across the castle, across the grounds, for me.
Please ask a servant to go fetch it and continue with your day.
Unfortunately, there is no indication he did anything of the sort, as the door swings open, revealing him with the giant fur draped over his shoulders like the most dramatic cloak.
“Apologies for the wait,” he says with a smile. “Fetching things is a little slower since my gates stopped working.”
I cringe at the reminder. “How long do you think it will take for them to recover?”
“I’m not sure. This has never happened before.” He sparks shadow between his fingers, his voice light and unconcerned. “But it’s getting stronger by the day. Maybe a few more.”
He strides into the room, slides the fur off his shoulders, and holds it up between us. “On? Or folded at the end of the bed?”
“On,” I say, wiggling. I can’t fully fight my smile at seeing it. And when he lays it over me, its familiar weight is bliss.
It still smells of cloves. I turn my face away as I adjust under it, hiding my expression.
When I’ve controlled myself, I fold the edge back neatly and clasp my hands on top of it. I glance up at him. His dark eyes are alight.
“Hmm. All-consuming,” he murmurs. He checks the clock, and he sighs. “I have to meet with Dashol and Karns. I saw some of the work you did with Dashol. It’s excellent. When you feel well enough, you can join us.”
A thrill goes through my chest at having been useful. I’ve taken up so much of Alaris’s time, the least I can do is help him find the best way to the Flame.
“I feel well enough now!” I pull the cover off and shift to stand.
Before I can swing my legs off the bed, he catches the fur and yanks it back over me. He falls forward on his hands, pinning it around my hips. With his weight caging me, I can’t budge.
“No.” He leans over me, a stern look on his face. “You’ll stay.”
“Hey!” My eyes land on his full bottom lip, then pull back up. “See, I do say what I want! You just ignore me!”
The look in his eye grows harder. “Difficult Ly. You only say what you want to trick me. Or to punish yourself for what you think you shouldn’t want. And in this case, it’s the latter.”
“When have I ever…how am I punishing myself?”
“You don’t think you should rest when there is work to be done,” he says simply. “Good thing I’m here to make sure you don’t have a choice in the matter.”
My mouth falls open at the audacity of this lord. I want to call him pleasure-seeking. Lazy. Frivolous. But unfortunately, it turns out he is none of those things.
I’m too tired from blood loss to think of how to pin him right back.
“I just think you like torturing me,” I grumble.
“Maybe I do. Or maybe I care about what you want too much. Up until the exact moment where it hurts you, at which point, I am more than happy to be your villain. Now.” He leans closer, herding me back to the pillow. “Stay. In. Bed.”
His low and ominous tone rolls over me. I wonder too late what would have happened if I’d held my ground and let him close the distance between us.
I’m going to get him back for this.
His lip twitches. “That’s a dangerous look, Ly.”
I narrow my eyes. “If you’re not worried, you’re a fool.”
“As long as you stay right here, I’ll live with the consequences.” His eyes flick to my lips. Then he’s off the bed, and by the time I fully exhale, he’s at the curtains.
“The healer will decide when you can join us,” he says over his shoulder. “Call for me if you want anything else.”
He lets the heavy velvet curtain fall.
I won’t call him if my wound rips open and I start bleeding. I’ll let myself run dry before I give him the satisfaction.
I fall back, exhausted. My blood only buzzes when he is here. Despite my desire to be useful, I really am tired. I spend the rest of the day in and out of sleep. As I drift, my hazy thoughts go to the hawks.
Hopefully, as Alaris’s power recovers, they do too.
I wake the next morning to the healer’s arrival. Alaris stands behind her again, his arms crossed over his chest. So he hears when she clears me to move about slowly, with frequent rests.
I glance at him triumphantly. “Does this mean I’m free?”
He sighs. “I’ll call Flora.”
Flora brings me breakfast, along with a small ceramic pot. I squeal when I see it. It’s only been a week, but the distinct shape of a lobell shoot is already poking up out of the dirt. A note is tied to the front, and I unfurl it:
Check it out! The first seedling. You take care of yourself and this one, I’ll take care of the rest. But hurry back to the greenhouse because they are growing like weeds and I’m out of my depth. Feel better! —S
The seeds sprouted far faster than they ever did for me at the palace. This soil must suit them. I run a finger along the curve of the stem, then set the pot on the side table where it can get light from the window.
As eager as I am to get to the office, I need a shower. Flora helps me limp to the bathing room, then I wave her off. I have to sit on a stool under the stream and take breaks from lifting my arms as I wash my hair. My body fights me to go slower the whole time.
But I push through. I have important things to do. The shadowgates didn’t work, which means Alaris will be revisiting other plans. Any detail about the Citadel could matter.
I dress and slide my damp bandaged foot into slippers Flora left for me. I limp to the door and pull it open. The hallway is dim. I hesitate.
Alaris only warded the bedroom.
My chest seizes and my heart takes off, thudding in my chest like I broke into a run. The masked man knows exactly where I am now. He could be in the shadows, waiting for me to take a single step out of safety, his knife ready.
It’s silly, I negotiate with my racing heart. I’m deep in the castle. Alaris and Dashol are just down the hall, expecting me to join them. I step across the threshold.
The corridor twists and warps, the shadows deepening. I jump back into the room and slam the door, heaving in clipped breaths. He’s out there. I can feel it.
Panic and blood loss do not seem to be mixing well.
The floor is swaying beneath me, and black spots threaten the edges of my vision.
I stumble back to the bed behind the curtain and flop down, waiting for my frantic heart rate to slow.
Eventually, I recover enough to kick off the slippers and climb under the fur.
But I’m not tired enough to sleep. Which leaves me fully awake and full of guilt.