Page 61 of To Tame An Angel

Purple tea would put anyone to sleep. Usually used during any surgeries, as it comforted the patient while the medical procedure took place. It was hard to acquire, and I wondered where she’d obtained it. Who she had to bribe and for how much.

“So, he’s not dead,” I whispered, trying to take my mind off how she worked my back.

“No. He’s a strong one, your angel,” she said and looked at me. In her eyes was a soft sort of sad understanding. “I convinced mother to let you see him one last time. To privately bid your farewells.”

Farewell. Goodbye. No. It was too much. I had no wish to bid him farewell. To know that he would die, and I would be cursed to live a life without him. To know that each day that the sun rose, he wouldn’t be there. That he would face a most gruesome death simply because he gave himself to me. Trust me. Loved me. Loved me enough to have his wings sprout.

“But you need your strength. You need to heal. He’s being held until you’re able to go to him.”

Valle gently soaked a clean rag with a pomade and dabbed it carefully over my back. The pomade was cool and soothed the sharp pain. I sighed into the bedding, feeling tears well up in my eyes.

“The Queen ordered your death,” Valle’s voice was swollen with her own pain. “But Mother interfered.”

But my hate for our mother was thick and heavy. It lapped at my throat. She’d done this to me. Gods knew what she was doing to Tannor. I couldn’t even imagine it because I would imagine the worse. Castration. Amputations. Mutilations. All sorts of horrors. For all I knew, the man I’d loved was unrecognizable under the skillful hand of my mother. Under her precise methods of pain.

He didn’t deserve any of it. He deserved nothing of the kind. If it wasn’t for me wishing to return to my room, we would be halfway around the world, seeking aid and shelter from more generous civilizations. Instead, he lingered in agony underneath this same castle.

“It took all of mother’s negotiation skills to save you,” Valle continued, turning to the tonics and offering them to me.

Angrily, I snatched one from her, gulping it down. Knowing it would help with the healing. Healing that I needed to think straight and formulate a plan. It would not be an easy feat to maneuver my beaten body out of my childhood home with a wounded Tannor. The upside was that I was in my childhood home. I knew each nook and cranny. I’d spent many hours hiding from my older sisters from whatever game they wished to levy at me.

Valle pressed new leaves into my wounds, creating a hardened cast once they molded to the pomade. I was silent as she worked, my mind thinking how long this jova seal would hold. Would it be enough for me to fight? Last summer, I’d scrapped my knee raw and a quick jova cast allowed me to complete my training.

When she finished, Valle gathered her materials and glanced at me. “They’ll kill him in the half-moon, as dictated.”

I sat up and stared at her in horror. “That’s tomorrow night!”

She said nothing for a while, staring down at her items as she carefully put them away. “It’s easy to believe you love them, isn’t it? They’re so sweet sometimes, so eager. They depend fully on you and at times you wake in the night and if they’re in your bed, their warmth covers you as they hold you. When you hear their heartbeat against your ear, it’s easy to believe it’s love. But it’s not. Love cannot be, Nalla. You must let him go. There’s no chance of happiness or freedom to love. It’ll end you just like this. Or worse.”

Valle stood abruptly and looked down at me with kind eyes.

“The guards will come and take you to see him. Make the best of your time and then forget all about him.”

When I was alone once more, I continued my wild pacing of the room. The minutes stretched to hours and each second lost was more ways mother could harm Tannor. I was being driven mad by my own speculations. I wished to scream and yell and pound my fists against the doors. The temptation to use my magic was great, but I reserved it. I held at bay. Soon, I would need it and it had to be at its full charge.

After two hours, my doors were opened, and my mother’s golden guard arrived. Try as I might, I wouldn’t be able to fight my way through these women. They were the absolute best, the most trained, and skilled. Their arms were muscled but lean, their legs were a testament of their many hours spent training.

The captain, a tall woman with deep brown skin and long straight hair, stepped forward. Illo was her name, and she’d been on my mother’s guard for many a decade. Despite her age, she was hardened like a stone and had no pity or remorse in her dark eyes.

“It is against my better judgement to take you to see that beast. Know that I will slit your throat if you attempt anything ridiculous, even if you’re a daughter of generals,” Illo said in an even tone.

I lifted my chin and showed as much bravery as I could. “I understand.”

She raised a single solitary eyebrow and nodded at the women under her command. I was grabbed and roped; my hands bound before me. Then they shoved me forward, through the home I knew. Servants deflected their eyes when I walked, as if I’d shamed them all with my behavior. It was then that I realized there would be no life here for me. Even if I couldn’t save Tannor. Even if we were doomed. Now I truly had nothing to lose.

I was taken down to the dungeons, which smelled of urine and a slight tinge of dried blood. I felt my magic sizzle, warming the tips of my fingers. But now was not the moment to use it. Now was the moment to plan, to find a way out of this madness.

In the center of dungeons was my mother’s play area, and it didn’t surprise me to find this is where I was led. The fires were lit, casting a soft glow of orange over the area and there hung Tannor. His arms were high above his head as he was hoisted up with a silver chain that cut into his wrists. His wings were tucked neatly behind him, roped in silver.

When he heard us enter, he slowly looked up, and we gasped as we beheld each other. Me in horror at the state of his body, him in relief at seeing me alive.

His face was nearly purple with swollen bruises, a broken nose and a split lip. One of his eyes was completely shut, and he had a deep gash on his eyebrow. His chest had pot marks of burns and his legs were slashed where he’d been whipped. It broke my heart to see him this way.

“Tannor–”

“You have five minutes,” a voice said from the side.

I turned to see mother wiping her hands and walking slowly to me. Her skin was glistening with sweat and her hair was slightly undone. Something I’d not seen in many years.

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