Chapter 20 Kailia
Kailia
Laying perfectly still, she kept her eyes closed, letting her senses tell her about her surroundings.
She was warm. A plush and soft mattress beneath her.
The weight of blankets or furs atop her.
The smell of fresh air. The barest brush of a breeze along her cheek.
The rustle of movement told her she wasn’t alone. Footfalls. A door closing.
She wanted to lay there and go unnoticed a little longer, but the pressure in her pelvis told her that would not be an option much longer. She needed a bathing chamber.
Slowly cracking her eyes open, she looked up at a ceiling with open beams running across it.
Her heart rate increased.
Gaze darting to a wall, she found a window with a view that told her she was not on the ground floor. The walls were painted a calming shade of blue the color of the sea.
Her chest squeezed as her breaths came faster.
Then silver hair and eyes filled her vision, Cethin leaning over her.
“It’s okay, Kailia,” he coaxed, holding her gaze. “You’re safe.”
She broke his stare, looking past him to another wall. The same color blue, there was a painting of a beach at night, the moon reflecting on the waters.
“I know you’ve never been here. That you don’t know where you are, but we’re safe. You’re safe,” he repeated.
Slowly, she brought her gaze back to his, finding him still watching her intently.
A small smile formed on his lips. “Staying so quiet never serves you, tiny fiend.”
“Where are we?” she asked, the words raspy. Her throat was so dry. How long had she been sleeping?
His smile faded, his eyes becoming shuttered. “It’s an old property of my family’s,” he answered. “Located to the south, outside Shira Forest.”
She nodded, events and memories returning. The dream she’d had replayed the same, even with the differences.
Reaching for the blankets, she made to shove them off, but Cethin reached out, gently placing his palm atop them, right below her breasts. It was barely a touch, enough to still her, but it made every part of her tense up and that sent sharp agony along her torso.
“Please wait for Niara,” he said, his voice tight. “Your injuries were extensive, Kailia, and you’ve slept for quite some time.”
“How long?”
“Two days.”
She nodded. That explained the urgent need.
About to express that need, she glanced over at him again, but the words stilled as she realized he was shirtless.
Pale skin and toned muscles were on display, but she’d never cared about such things before.
A body was a body, male or female. She could appreciate beauty, sure, but in the end, everyone had one.
Some came with dicks and some came with breasts.
There was a white bandage wrapped around his abdomen, and when she dragged her gaze up farther, across a firm chest, the column of his neck, and back to his face, there were faint traces of bruising. His hair was tied back, a couple pieces having escaped the leather band and brushing along his jaw.
A small smirk kicked up on his lips as he said, “This type of silence I will take from you for as long as you’d like.”
Her brow furrowed. “Silence is silence. There aren’t different types.”
He leaned in farther, his hand still resting atop the blankets.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” he countered, his voice low and soft.
“There are several versions of silence. Meek silence, where one is trying to shrink in on themselves. Purposeful silence for hunting or thievery. Clever silence for listening and learning, both in academic and social settings. Apathetic silence when one truly doesn’t care about what’s happening around them.
Restful silence for the obvious. Domineering silence, which you prefer, by the way, where the lack of sound exhibits a steadfast power and makes others uncomfortable. ”
“And which type of silence was I using?” she asked, both annoyed and intrigued by this conversation.
His smirk grew. “My favorite kind. Awe-inspired silence. When one is so stunned and enamored by what they are looking at, they can’t find words.”
Her features hardened. “That is not what that was.”
He hummed, amusement dancing in his eyes.
“It wasn’t,” she insisted, shifting under the blankets and again attempting to uncover herself.
All humor and teasing disappeared instantly. “Wait for Niara,” he warned.
“I need the bathing chamber,” she retorted, wiggling her toes and rotating her ankles to get feeling back in them. Two days was a long time to not move her limbs. She felt stiff and lethargic.
He pressed his lips together in disapproval.
“You seem upset by that need,” she said, trying to understand his reaction. “It is a basic one.”
“I know that,” he replied. “I just worry about you getting out of bed before Niara has checked you over.”
“That is an unnecessary worry. I’ve survived worse,” she said, once again moving to shove back the blankets and furs.
He let her this time, something dark in his tone when he said, “Tell me more about that.”
“Not necessary. What is necessary is me using the bathing room in the next two minutes,” she said sharply, and he straightened at the bite in her tone.
“Yes, all right,” he relented, brushing back the strands of hair from his face. “Can I at least help you up?”
“No,” she said, sucking in a sharp breath when her abdominal muscles contracted as she attempted to sit up. She could do this.
“Kailia…”
She said nothing, controlling her breathing. If he touched her, it would be worse. So much worse.
It took far too long to get her legs over the side of the bed, and she slowly slid to the floor. Her bare feet sank into a soft rug, and the hem of her tunic brushed her knees.
Her bare knees.
Her head snapped up. “I don’t have pants on.”
His eyes dipped as if he needed to confirm it for himself. Yet another emotion sparked in his eyes. He felt too many things for her to keep track of. Emotions were messy and confusing.
His voice was rough when he said, “You are correct, but in all fairness, you prefer not to wear pants.”
“My dresses generally reach the floor,” she argued.
He arched his brows. “And the slits up the sides reach your thighs, which I am not complaining about, by the way.”
She didn’t have time to discuss this. “Where is the bathing room?”
He gestured to the right, and she followed the motion to a doorway, immediately making her way there. She stayed close to the bed, using it as support as long as she could, and Cethin, annoyingly, stayed close to her.
“Niara is going to be pissed, and she’s already upset with me,” Cethin muttered.
“Yes, well, it’s either this, or I piss all over the floor,” she snapped in irritation.
He huffed a surprised breath of laughter. “Fair enough, tiny fiend.”
Finally making it to the bathing room, she shut the door in his face.
After she’d taken care of her needs, she sat on the edge of the large bathtub to catch her breath while debating getting into the thing.
A hot bath sounded divine, but she could hear Cethin pacing on the other side of the door.
More than that, she wasn’t entirely sure how the knobs and faucet worked.
She’d just gotten used to the castle tubs, and these were different.
Sighing, she pushed back to her feet and shuffled to the door, pulling it open.
Sure enough, Cethin was there, waiting for her.
Instead of going back to the bed, she made her way to a window, taking in the view.
Judging by the sun, it was after high-noon.
It looked warm out, but she’d spent the last few days in that forest. She knew how deceiving the view was.
“Did I win?” she asked, bringing her hand up and pressing her fingertips to the glass. It was cool, confirming her theory about the temperature outside.
“Win what?” Cethin asked.
She looked over her shoulder. “The hunt.”
His eyes widened, a disbelieving laugh sounding. “The hunt became the least of our worries.”
“Injuries don’t end a competition.”
“They don’t…” He eyed her, grimacing a little as he shifted and pressed a hand to his side.
“What’s wrong with you?” she asked, turning to face him, wincing herself when the wound on her stomach pulled.
“Can you please sit?” Cethin asked.
She should have argued, but she also desperately needed to sit down. So she made her way back to the bed, and Cethin propped up pillows so she could rest against the headboard. Once she was settled, she said, “Did you injure yourself on the hunt?”
He sent her an unimpressed look from the armchair he’d sat in that was right beside the bed. “No, Kailia. I did not injure myself. What do you remember of that day?”
“I was tracking a stag while you all went off to do the gods know what,” she replied simply, hands flat in her lap. But she flexed her fingers in the soft fur that he’d spread back over her.
“You mean you went off by yourself,” he said accusingly.
She stared at him. “Eight people cannot hunt a stag together. It’s impossible. You are all very loud. It’s amazing you’re able to harvest anything.”
“That’s not the point.”
“You are upset I went hunting without you?”
“No, I—” He pushed out a harsh breath, swiping a hand down his face. “You don’t know the forest, Kailia. You went off by yourself, and you were attacked.”
“Yes, I know that, but that doesn’t explain how you injured yourself.”
“I didn’t injure myself. You stabbed me. Again. Twice.”
Her entire being went utterly still. “I stabbed you.”
“Twice,” he repeated.
“With what?”
He gave her an incredulous look. “Daggers. What else would you stab me with?”
“My daggers? What color were the blades?”
Seemingly at a loss, he stared at her.
“Were they silver or black?” she pushed.
“Black,” he said in curiosity. “Why does that matter?”
But she scarcely heard him. Not with the whooshing in her ears as her heart rate spiked. It wasn’t possible.
“Where are they?” she demanded, shoving back the furs again.
“Kailia, what are you doing? Stay in bed.”