Page 26 of The Bone King and the Starling

While his right hand continues to massage my cold toes beneath the fur, his left hand kneads the back of my neck. He sighs and his breath smells of honey. His skin smells of the oils he put in my hair the night before. Rosemary and eucalyptus. “Who struck you?”

He is attempting to lull me into releasing the name, I realize abruptly. I pinch my lips together, then offer meekly, “I…am fine, my liege.”

“I want their names.”

“Please.”

“Please.”

“I beg of you, my king.”

“I beg of you, little bird. Tell me.”

“I…cannot say, my king.”

“You cannot?”

“Please do not make me,” I whisper, my voice so soft it could belong to a ghost.

The pressure on the back of my neck increases. “Was it the warrior male who thinks he has laid claim to you?”

My nostrils flare, surprised that he could know of Tori and the bidding when I did not know of it myself. Stupidly, I blurt out, “You know of the bidding?”

“I do now.”

I wince, feeling the fool.

“Tell me of it.” His hands are terrible, first on my neck, then pulling gently on my hair. I’m so tired…so tired. I’ve been bottling everything up as I’ve always done. Just going, ever going, keep going. Ignore the pain. But…right now, right here…I allow everything to hurt while in his care and it feels…too much. Tears wet my face and I cover my mouth with my hand, shake my head again.

“The men of your village bid on your virginity?”

“How did you know that, my king?” My voice is wet. He pulls my hand away from my face and softly, much too softly, brushes his fingers beneath the eye of my too warm cheek.

“Because I know people. And because I know people, I know that you did not orchestrate this bid yourself.”

I don’t respond, but sniffle.

“Who did?”

My breathing is shallow. I reach for words that I cannot grasp.

“Who, sweet Starling?” His voice is shaking. I fear I will succumb to it and to the gentle ministrations of his hand. I cannot think.

“My lord, please,” I say, voice thick with tears, but he misunderstands.

“You will not be punished. Trust me.”

Trust him. What a terrible thing to demand. I would rather offer him my bleeding heart, for that is what his trust would be taking from me.

“Oh for the gods’ sake,” Rosalind crows. “I made the deal with Tori on her behalf, and I struck her this morning, as I would any thrall who disobeyed me or failed to perform her tasks.”

The king presses a dry kiss to the top of my head where my hairline meets my forehead before sliding me off of his lap. He stands and secures his furs around me with the same heavy leather and metal buckle that he used to secure them to his own skin, and then turns me by the shoulders so that I’m facing a beautiful woman with a thick blonde braid hanging over her left shoulder. In her left hand, she carries a large leather box.

“This is Hilde. She will care for you in my chambers, where you will spend the rest of the day recovering and healing before I join you. We will dine privately this evening.”

I’m gestured forward by Hilde, whose severe face brokers no argument. She is shaking her head, glaring angrily past me atsomeone, but I do not see whom. Instead, I only hear King Calai ask, “And how much was her virginity purchased for?”

Rosalind doesn’t hesitate. “Eighteen silvers and nine gold coins. Twice that for my fee, my liege. I would think it appropriate for you to pay what is owed and then some if you intend to keep her away from her duties and tending to you while you are here.”

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