Page 156 of Enchanted Heir
I shrugged my good shoulder. “That’s fine. My hair can cover it. I just don’t want to deal with the pain if I don’t have to.” Plus maybe it would help for some of the others to see it.
By the time she had the ointment on and helped me into a soft off-the-shoulder day dress, my breakfast had arrived.
Mid-biscuit, Krew came in, slamming the door shut behind him with his magic. The healer was gone. For now.
“How’d it go?” Owen asked just before taking a bite, putting a sound barrier up for Krew.
“I wanted to kill him every single second I was in his presence,” Krew spit out, hands shaking with rage.
I reached for my orange juice, not knowing what to say. “And does he still live?”
“Momentarily.” He paused. “He told me—” Krew stopped to clench his fist, “he told me that no one was allowed to kill me but him.”
I gasped. “He didn’t.”
“Oh, he most definitely did.” Krew’s magic was slithering along his skin now. “But he did at least admit that hisfrustrationson the two of you were a bit rash. He said he should’ve waited for the apprehended disloyal to arrive.”
I put my fork down, no longer feeling hungry for the biscuits and gravy.
“And this damned healer keeps telling me not to use my magic to rebuild it, but I am starting to think that as much as I have felt the tug to use my magic since coming around yesterday, I might need to use it to rebuild it.” He shook his head at the ceiling. “I don’t know if I should trust this healer or not.”
I thought about that. What if Krew was right? What if he needed to slowly start using it every day? The royals beginning with the previous king, Krew’s deceased grandfather, had everyone believing they needed to use magic sparingly. Now decades later, that’s how the king maintained being the strongest Enchanted in the kingdom. So what if Krew needed to use his magic, instead of not using it?
Owen’s forehead creased.
“Why not just ask the healer outright?” I asked. “I got the impression he doesn’t really like your father. And it’s not as if you are asking in theory only, he’s treating you.”
Krew was quiet a few beats as he considered it.
I added, “You do not have to admit how strong you are or that you use your magic regularly. Just say you feel as if you should be using it to rebuild it and see what he says.”
“Where is our favorite healer anyway?” Owen asked. “I am not convinced he is ever going to leave the two of you alone again.”
Krew smirked. “I know. I told him to get lost. He informed me he would check in this afternoon.” He paused. “I’m going to go take a long shower and mourn the fact that I couldn’t kill my father this morning.”
“Soon though,” Owen offered.
Krew’s eyes were on mine as he said, “But not too soon.”
* * *
I was goingthrough a journal on the table in the adjoining room by the time Krew was out of the shower.
“Anything new?” he asked as he approached me.
I shook my head. “Not yet, but I just started a new journal.”
I had done five already and didn’t have any more information. I’d already skipped to the last journal, thinking that would hold some grand revelation, but it had nothing. Now I was working on the second to last one. It was large too and would likely take me a while. I was beginning to get nervous there was nothing more. No other messages than the ones we already found.
Krew stood behind me, reaching to move my hair aside to look at the bruising on my shoulder.
“No touching me,” I reminded him.
Krew gently brushed a kiss on my back, between my bruising and my neck. “I do not care what the healer says, there is no way I am not touching you.”
“Fine,” I laughed as I picked up the paintbrush to do another line of the journal, “but no sleeping with your arm around me the entire night at least.”
I was given this pencil as a gift from a dear friend. To assist in my painting. The markings disappear when they dry.
