Page 62 of Settle Down, Princess

It was what I wanted. I felt as though I could either have Arik close or I could breathe air, but not both. He made my chest tight and my lungs burn every second he was near me, so I found myself breathing much more slowly now he was gone. That didn’t explain the ache in my chest, though. I frowned. It was as if my body had grown so accustomed to such a burden, that I craved it when it was gone.

“So, the bathwater…?” Roan asked.

“Put the bath down and fill it up,” Marian ordered, her long, green gown sweeping across the wooden floorboards as she came closer. “I’ll examine the patient, but if she’s well enough to get angry with one of her suitors, I’m sure she’s on the mend.” She approached me with her hands held out, as if to placate a flighty animal. “I’m Marian, one of the packland healers, and I’m just here to ensure you heal well.”

I drew myself up tall, something my body protested. The effect was entirely ruined by the fact that I was wearing one of my underdresses, which was stale-smelling and somewhat stained, but I nodded to the woman.

“You have my thanks, Lady Marian.”

She snorted at that, sitting down on the side of the bed, then reached up with featherlight hands to touch my scalp. I let out a little hiss of pain, which had the remaining three men stepping forward, but she shook her head, making clear they weren’t needed. I was glad for her intervention because I didn’t want anything to do with any of them.

When I was a child, I’d come across a litter of piglets when out in the castle farm one day. All those little pink wriggling bodies had entranced me and while my governess had tried to keep me from getting close, I’d asked the farmer caring for them if I could name one. I was the princess, something they all knew, and so the pigs were my father’s, by rights. That meant no one would stop me, and so I bestowed the name of Patch upon one that had a dark spot around one eye.

After that, I’d gone there every day to see Patch. I took scraps from our table to feed him and his brothers and sisters, and I watched him grow bigger and bigger. Then one day I walked into the dining room for dinner to find a red, meticulously basted, suckling pig on a platter, an apple stuffed in its mouth. Patch had joined us for dinner, Mother informed me, her eyes challenging me to make a fuss in front of our esteemed guests.

I didn’t.

She’d trained me too well, but it had been a terrible shock to find out where the meat on our table came from. I’d wondered, late into the night, how it could be that farmers could spend so much time caring for animals, raising them from tiny little fragile things into adults, all the while knowing their fate.

And I found myself wondering the same about these men.

If the deaths of all the Kheanian queens was common knowledge in Stormare, then it had to be known all throughout this country. So, just like the farmer with the piglets, the four of them had to have known what fate they would be consigning me to. They’d ferried me across my nation and theirs, towards the man who threatened my life. Then, when I’d dared to try and make my escape…

“I think we need to make a few things clear.” I heard Arik’s voice in my head as if he was in the same room, though I was thankful he wasn’t. “That she belongs to us.”

I shook my head sharply. Arik’s words seemed like barbed grass seeds that would lodge themselves in my skin, and I refused to allow them to gain purchase.

Chapter 35

Creed

I was in hell.

I’d fallen into eternal torment when I saw Jessalyn being struck by those fucking bandits, and I’d burned, in reality, as the roseblood throbbed in my blood and we’d taken off after her. Then later… gods. Before that, I’d never let myself go so far with a female, with a woman, and when I did with Jessalyn? I still felt her blood on my fingertips from when I’d touched the wound on her scalp. Of course she was bristling with anger like a cat backed into a corner. She hissed and spat at the men who were supposed to love and care for her.

Because we hadn’t.

I watched Marian inspect her scalp, my muscles tightening when Jessalyn winced, but the healer nodded as she withdrew her hands.

“You’re healing well, thankfully. You’ll have headaches for a few days, but you should be right as rain within a week.” She gestured to the copper bath Roan still clung to like it was a shield. “Have a wash. You’ll feel more yourself when you’re clean, and I’ll have some food sent over. Plain fare.” Her tone grew firmer. “We’ll keep your diet bland until you’ve shown you can keep food down consistently.”

I would get her that food. I’d bring her the best cuts of meat, porridge rich with sugar and milk. I’d bring her water fresh from the spring. I’d—

“And you three need to dump those buckets of water into the bath,” Marian said, shooting us a meaningful look. “Then get some more. You’ll stay in this room only at the patient’s say so. Also no more fighting. Jessalyn’s been through enough.”

Silas looked as pale as milk, his green eyes standing out all the brighter in his face, as he took the rebuke silently. We all did. Then, while we were just waiting there, Roan set the bath down. That had Silas and me moving, pouring the buckets of water into the copper tub.

“We’ll need a lot more than that,” Silas said, glancing at Jessalyn then back to me.

“Let's get the buckets up here double time,” Roan said. “I’ll help.”

I didn’t want to leave the room. The wolf inside me was pushing hard to take control. I’d made such a fucking balls-up of everything. He was sure he could do better: jump up on the bed, then turn around three times before settling down beside her.

But she wouldn’t want that.

The room stank of the sour scent of burnt flowers, the specific scent of Jessalyn’s pain, and we were the cause of it, not the solution. I shouldered my way out of the healer’s cottage. The air was always sweetest in the packlands, but even the soft breeze in my face wasn’t able to dispel that stink. Roan found an extra bucket and we filled each one with water, then carried it back, filling the bath until it was ready. I tested the water, felt that it was suitably warm but not too hot. I looked up to let her know her bath was ready, but what I saw made me clench my jaw.

Jessalyn sat up in the bed with the blankets bunched up around her, her knuckles white as she clutched at them. She stared at us, then the bath, before raising her head and forcing herself to move. Her progress was slow and caused her pain. I wanted to rush over, to carry her back and settle her in the bath, but with the fire in her eyes it was clear what a mistake that would be. She made it under her own steam, right up until she reached the side of the bed. When she dropped her feet to the floor and stood, her legs wobbled, then faltered, and we were beside her in a flash. Hands grabbed her hands, her hips, her shoulder, to provide her with the strength she lacked.

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