Page 58 of Sunder

There was her smile again, offered to Athan as if Orma could be managed with just the right touch. Her feelings suppressed and her symptoms tucked away so he would not have to see them.

She could let it happen. Let Athan and her father go off to talk about her. Let Mama do what she’d always done—likely coax her upstairs to rest for a while until she felt better.

It was what she knew. What a part of her craved even now. To let everyone else take care of things so she would not have to trouble herself.

But it suddenly felt intolerable.

She gave the bond a yank, because it was hers, and she’d lived with it for far, far longer than Athan.

He gave her a sharp look—not one of anger, but of surprise.

Stay.

It wasn’t a command, but it was not gentle, either.

If he went, if he let her father fill his head with all the sordid bits of her history, she couldn’t bear it. Those were her scars and her stories, and she was certain her father had countless notes and papers he could share of all that was done to her.

That would be easier, wouldn’t it?

Let him read it for himself, with all the meaningless words the healers were always using to describe her innermost parts.

“You’re right,” Athan agreed without the argument she’d half-expected. “That was wrong of me.” He turned back to her father. “If there are any records of her care, I would appreciate being allowed to look over them with Orma. I’m sure she could help me make sense of them more than anyone.”

Her parents shared a look. No, she really couldn’t. Not in those first...

She swallowed.

Shoved it all back.

“I wish to ensure she continues to receive the very best care.” The bond gave a twinge. A lurch. He wasn’t being truthful, but his smile was pleasant, as was his tone.

He found fault with her care? Or with her parents for procuring the healers that inflicted it?

Her father had the good grace not to argue with her mate. “The notes are... extensive. The healers wanted to publish it to the medical library for review, but I’m sure you can agree that would have invaded Orma’s privacy far too much. We agreed it could only be added to the archives upon her death.”

He gave his daughter a pointed look. “Which will not be for a very great while.”

Orma managed the dim smile expected of her. “Of course.”

It was a strange sort of party that headed toward the library. No one objected when she followed behind, and her mother after her because she did not care to be left alone.

There was an entire shelf dedicated to Orma—and the bookcases themselves were longer than her wingspan, so that was rather a lot. It was not under any sort of lock. There was no reason she could not have gone through it all at any time, except that she would have rather read any tome in that library than look at a single page of it.

And Athan’s compromise was they look through ittogether.

“As you can see, they were meticulous in their note keeping.” Her father said it with pride. Proof of the great care they had taken with her. “You might prefer to take it in batches. Or you are welcome to keep them here and peruse at your leisure.”

Athan walked the length of the shelf. The bond was a strange tangle of emotions. There was curiosity, but also...

He was disturbed.

Deeply so.

“I should like to take a few home with me, if it is indeed all right with you.”

Her father nodded, looking over the books and sheaths himself. “Would you care for her earliest treatments? Or her current regiment?”

Orma hated this. Always had, which was why Mama usually took her from the room so she would not have to be subjected to the feeling of being talked over. Like she wasn’t a person, just a problem to be sorted.

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