Page 38 of Bound to the Shadow Prince

It makes sense. I imagine one of the duties at the Alabaster Citadel was to ensure that the two “sacrifices” to the goddess were self-sufficient and had no need to abandon the tower. “At least you were somewhat prepared for this.” I gesture at our surroundings. “I had three days, and two of them were spent traveling. We found out about the shipwreck, and then suddenly I was being tossed into a carriage and sent here.”

“I am…sorry.” He watches me with dark green eyes. “It must have been quite a transition.”

“Awful,” I agree. “But I was the only choice left. The Vestalin bloodline is all but gone save for Erynne and—” I break off, because I don’t know if he knows that my sister was pregnant. Erynne had told me that the moment she was able to take Lionel to her bed again, she was going to try and get pregnant once more, because it was so very important for our bloodlineto continue. “My sister the queen,” I emphasize, deciding that’s safe information. “Myself and my sister, and I’m trapped here.”

He continues to eat, saying nothing.

It’s difficult to know what we should speak of and what we shouldn’t. I want to ask him how many are left in the Darkfell line, but I suspect he won’t tell me. The gossip coming out of Darkfell’s mountains is anemic at best, and our spies are few. I don’t know how many are left in the bloodline there, or if they yet have control of the throne as they did back in the days of my ancestor. Then again, Nemeth wasn’t there all his life. He was at the Alabaster Citadel, and I had no idea. I eye him over my bowl. “You were at the Citadel, but you didn’t travel on the same ship as my sister?”

Nemeth looks uncomfortable. “I was called home a few weeks prior to the solstice. My king wished to speak with me privately. I was supposed to be on the ship, though. I…think about that a lot.”

I can imagine. “Well, I’m glad you’re here.”

He manages a smile and then gestures at my bowl. “Eat.”

Chapter

Twenty-Five

Igo with Nemeth as he takes the dishes down to the kitchen and rinses them out. I offer to help but he won’t let me, so I sit on one of the counters and watch him, and we talk about the things we can’t wait to eat or do once we get out of here. It passes the time pleasantly, and then we head back upstairs for bed.

I take off my overdress, tugging on the bodice laces, and to my surprise, Nemeth moves to my side and loosens the ties on my oversleeves. He helps me without saying a word, and it feels comfortable and yet too intimate all the same. “I can manage,” I murmur, acutely aware of how jiggly my breasts are the moment I loosen the corset. “It’s really no problem.”

“I should learn how to undress you,” he says.

“Is that so?”

His eyes flash, and I could swear he’s blushing. “So I can know how to take care of you if you should get sick again. For your medicine.”

“Of course. That’s absolutely what I was thinking,” I purr. “Medicine.”

Nemeth looks shy as he finishes unlacing my oversleeve. Once it’s off, I roll up my chemise sleeve and examine the insideof my arm. I always use the right arm, because that’s the one Nurse used. There are bruises and scabs from my clumsy efforts, and I don’t see any sign of yesterday’s dose forming a new bruise. Heisgood at this. I glance up at him as I sit on the edge of the bed and steady my arm on my lap. “How did you know how to make my potion? When I was sick?”

He picks up a small pot from near the fire, and I see he’s been warming the concoction already. “You made the same foul-smelling mix in the kitchens, over and over again, and you always stared at your book as you did. I figured it was a recipe for something important, and when you fell sick, you were delirious. You kept talking about your potion, and how you needed it. So I started searching your quarters. I found your book, and when I looked inside, there were instructions there.” He gives me a grave look. “I hope I did not intrude.”

“You saved my life. I’m fine with a little intrusion.”

Nemeth fills the syringe and carefully flicks a finger against it, releasing any trapped air bubbles. “If I do something wrong, please let me know. I’m simply going off your instructions in your guide.”

“So far, so good,” I tell him, holding my arm out. I’m a little disconcerted when he pulls his stool up extremely close and cradles my arm in his lap. His knee moves between mine, and this suddenly feels more intimate than when I was lying in bed and he administered the needles before. I wonder if I should lie down again. But before I can, he wipes my arm down with a wet towel and then gives me the dose before I can even realize he’s pricked the skin. His touch is so gentle that I barely felt it, and before I know it, the medicine is rushing through my veins and he wipes my arm again, this time clean of blood.

He moves back to the fire as I fold my arm up and hug it to my chest. “I’ve been boiling these before using them, like your instructions say. Your nurse is quite thorough.”

“She’s wonderful,” I agree, feeling pleasantly lightheaded with the medicine.

“If I may ask…you have plenty of supplies for your medicine. Why is it that you were so ill?” He glances over at me. “Was it a protest of some kind?”

As if I’d be that foolish. I shake my head. “No protest. I’m too fond of living. I was stretching the doses I had left because I’d run out of firewood. That’s why I had a slight fit”—I pinch my fingers, indicating just how slight—“over the sled.”

“A slight fit,” he echoes, voice dry. “You did try to kill me.”

“Very slight,” I agree. “I didn’t try very hard. I think we both agreed on that.”

Nemeth huffs, the sound both amused and offended all at once. He pokes at the logs on the fire, settling them, and then pushes them further back into the fireplace. “I think we should get ready for sleep, unless you need something else.”

“You’re just rushing me to bed, aren’t you?” I tease.

His wings flutter. “Of course not. Tomorrow is just a busy day. Much cleaning to be done. And bathing.” His wings twitch again. “I thought you might like a bath after being ill.”

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