Page 35 of The Devil In Blue
“Oh,” I said, reaching back to prod at the sore spot near my spine. “A bit sore, perhaps, but not hurt. Thank you.”
He took another step forward, placing his hands behind his back like he was starting to relax.
“He was rough with you again,” he implied.
I nodded. “He was. But if he truly thinks I’m this person he keeps talking about, I suppose I can understand his frustration.”
I was disoriented thinking of all the things he said to me. When I recalled the scar on my hip that matched the handle on the pillar. It didn’t make sense.
“Where is your mind wandering, my… Briar?” Petris asked.
I barely realized it was wandering.
“Do you tell the king everything? I mean, you knew about what happened. So you’ve spoken to him. Are you close?”
“Quite close. I’ve known him my whole life. I know him better than anyone.”
I dropped my eyes, giving our conversation some thought. I had never really confided in anyone before. I had always wanted to, but my secrets were never valuable enough for people not to share. The sisters shared them. Father Eli shared them. By the time Lucien took me in, I stopped sharing all together.
“If you feel the need to tell me something,” Petris said, taking another step. He was right next to the bed now. “Something you don’t want me relaying to the king. I can do that.” He paused for a moment to let that sink in. “You look like you need a listening ear.”
I looked up at him, internally pleading for him to stay and listen. When he slowly sat down on the bed, I didn’t flinch away with unease. I wanted to scoot closer. He was far enough away so that we wouldn’t touch if we reached out to each other and it felt like he did that on purpose. Like he was trying to give me space.
“I can’t tell day from night here,” I said softly. “I don’t even know how long it’s been.”
“Only a few days.”
“I don’t know that I care, really. But… I can’t remember a time when my thoughts were truly my own. I’ve been told what’s real and what isn’t for so long. Father Eli told me about my family. The slaughter. The horrors that drove me to madness. I don’t truly remember any of it, but I went mad for a reason. That must be it.” I felt my hands shaking and clasped them together tightly to keep the shudders at bay. “But now Rune tells me I am a liar. That none of that is true and that I am this traitorous person.” I felt a lump forming in my throat. “How could that be true? And yet… things do not line up. How could I have that mark on my body? It is a trick, yes? A trick crafted by your king. He is fae. They’re tricksters. Demons. There is magic here. He could manipulate me any way he wants.”
There was a feeling I felt often when reality and dreams came too close to one another. When madness twisted reality, I needed something to pull me back. Something to remind me not to drown or to float away. Oftentimes, that thing was pain. Father Eli taught me that pain could ground me. Keep me focused. Pain was shocking enough to wake me from those maddening stupors. Nails to my skin. Teeth to my lip. Heat to my hands. My ability to hurt myself in so many ways served me well after I left the asylum. I needed the pain. Southminster tortured me into needing it. It was a dark and necessary gift.
It was abuse. Heartless, sadistic abuse.
It’s kept me going this long…
That sense of being utterly out of control was coiling its fingers around me and dragging me in too many directions.
I barely realized what I was doing until Petris’s voice broke through the barrier of my scattered thoughts. My fingers were in my hair, pulling and ripping at the delicate strands. My breath was coming in rugged, almost painful gasps.
“Briar, stop,” he said.
He was right in front of me. He’d shifted close, his hands gently tugging at my wrists to get my fingers out of my hair. Tears stung my raw eyes and when I looked at him, he was a blurry mask with no expression. No judgment. I took a deep breath, eyes wide and crazed, and tried to realize his company. I tried to appreciate that I wasn’t alone in a cell with padded walls, tied and immobilized.
Petris folded my hands into my lap and cupped his own over them, letting his warmth soothe the chill that had made a home in my body. I looked at the dark shadows of his eyes and tried to find my balance without the pain I craved.
“Tighter,” I whispered.
He canted his head, his thumb lightly brushing over my knuckles.
“What?”
“Hold me tighter,” I said. “I… I will hurt myself if you don’t.”
He inched closer to me, his knee pressing against my leg, and he squeezed my hands tighter. And tighter. He squeezed so tight, I felt my joints crack. It was painful and I loved it. I needed it. I closed my eyes and I nodded, leaning toward him.
“Briar, you will not wander that far. I will not allow it.”
I wasn’t sure when I had fallen asleep again, but somehow I stayed that way. No dreaming. No uncomfortable tossing. I was warm and I was comfortable and as I came to, I understood why.
