Page 19 of Glass and Bone
“She should be fully healed within a week or so. Some scarring is to be expected, but it will fade with time.” Master Pakin murmurs as he smooths the bandage back over my forehead. His fingers move to the stitches on my thigh. I suck in a breath as pain races down my leg. “This wound is the worst of them, but even then, she was lucky.”
“Lucky?” I snap and he flinches. I regret it immediately when I see the surprise in his eyes. He doesn’t deserve my hostility.
“I apologize, Your Grace. That is not what I meant.” I exhale quickly as I stare into his hazel eyes. He looks apologetic, and I know my irritation is not towards him. He has been kind, but I can’t help the anger hiding inside of me. I softly smile as an apology, and he pats my leg.
“What did you mean, then? Hm?” Tobias’s voice is hard, distant, sounding more like my father than anything as he presses Master Pakin to explain himself. “Did you mean she was lucky to have escaped? Lucky to have been kidnapped and beaten?” He gets close to the master, his chest almost brushing his back. Master Pakin freezes, his eyes focusing only on my stitches when he answers.
“Your Grace, I only meant that she was lucky that no muscles or tendons were severed. Painful as it may be, it is only a flesh wound.” His voice is calm, even. If I were him, I would be shaking, in fact I am pretty sure I was. My eyes are focused on Tobias’s, darkening by the second. Master Pakin steps away from me carefully, slipping back onto his stool and refilling the glass I had set beside me. Tobias just stares at him.
“Thank you, Master Pakin.” I offer him an apologetic smile that I know doesn’t reach my eyes, hoping to diffuse the anger pouring out of Tobias like the plague.
“You are very welcome, dear. I know you feel discomfort currently, but it should subside soon. You can have as much of this tonic as you’d like.” He gestures towards the decanter of the cool, sweet drink I was consuming before, setting the refilled glass on the edge of the table. “There are no adverse side effects, and it should make you feel as normal as possible. You may get some bouts of tiredness, but that is just your body’s way of telling you to relax if you push yourself.” I nod and turn back towards Tobias.
He’s staring down at my legs, the scrapes a bright red against my pale skin. He’s close enough to reach down and brush my skin, which is what he does. Surprisingly, his warm, calloused fingers brush against a scar that's peeking through between the scratches, and not any of my fresh wounds.
“What is this?” I swallow loudly as I watch his fingers find another raised, flesh colored mark. He rubs his thumb over the healed scars, moving from one to another as he finds them all beneath the open wounds. Sparks of electricity tingle my skin each time he touches me. He’s mouthing something and only when he moves to my other leg and does the same thing, do I realize he’s counting them. He doesn’t need to, I already know. There are one hundred and seventy-nine lashes on my skin.
“I was a clumsy child.” I lie and swallow again, fighting against the lump in my throat.
While the scars are tiny, thin stripes covering my thighs and arms, the short whip my father used was anything but. I could still hear the snap in the air as the tip of the leather struck my skin, causing small, two-inch lines across my flesh. He was methodical, holding the whip in such a way that it only left short gashes, but that was before he really got angry.
If Tobias thought those were bad, he was in for a surprise should he ever see me without clothes. I used to be embarrassed about them, used to wear long sleeves and long dresses during all seasons to hide them, melting in the boiling hot summers. At some point, I stopped hiding. I stopped covering for my father and instead let his citizens see the wounds he’s inflicted. I was saddened when I realized no one bat an eye, no one even looked.
No one cared.
“They don’t look like normal wounds.” He whispers. I instinctively reach forward and roughly push his hand away. He snaps his head up, his eyes meeting mine, surprised. I freeze as I realize what I just did, my heart pounding in my chest.
I am not sure what is allowed here in Noterra, but if I pushed my father’s hand away like that, I would have much fresher wounds covering my body. I was property, and currently the holder of my title was Tobias. I was his to do with as he pleased. I swallow uncomfortably, searching his eyes for any hint of anger. He drops his arm and opens his mouth to speak, but then quickly shuts it. The sound of multiple footsteps and hushed whispers echo down the halls and we both turn to look at the door.
Chapter Eight
Tobias takes a small step to the left, leaving my side, to allow a hoard of people to file through the open door. All noblemen, from what I can tell by their clothing, and probably the men from his council. King Evreux is front and center, looking very much the same as before, with a thin scar above his right eye.
The only thing that is different is the grayish tint to his once tanned skin. His eyes deep into the hollows of his skull, causing noticeable dark circles. He looks ill, but ensures his stride remains strong as he makes his way over to me. He’s wearing a matching crimson cloak to the master, with it flowing behind him. He’s wearing a black tunic and dress pants made out of silk. The shiny fabric catches the light, drawing attention to him. He looks extremely kingly with his silver thorny crown resting upon his straight and short blonde hair, as if he just came from court. He looks me up and down, disdain causing his lips to thin.
“Princess Elaenor, you have awoken. Master Pakin has taken great care of you these last few days. How do you feel?” He looks at me with unfaltering strength, a hint of irritation behind his eyes, his voice strong and commanding. No doubt he’s unhappy with the terms of my arrival. For a man who is dying, as my father says, he does a good job at hiding it, but I can still tell.
The act of hardened strength is weak at best, I can hear the small tremor that vibrates through his voice at the end of his sentences. His throat protesting against the act of speaking, I can’t imagine what it must feel like. It makes me wonder what it is that ails him. I know it’s not something that has to do with age, but some other illness of the blood. To be able to feel your body weakening, failing, must be nothing short of terrifying.
The men behind him greedily search my body, no doubt taking in the scandal that is to be their queen. They are all older, ranging from mid-thirties to fifties. They seem to all be dressed similarly, silks and nice cotton. I assume they are all a part of his inner council as I doubt the king would be walking around with an entourage of low Lords. I slowly pull the thin sheet back over my bare legs, covering as much of myself as I can from their prying eyes.
“I am feeling okay, Your Grace.” I respond with a respectful dip of my chin. I keep my eyes down, not wanting to meet his gaze, my bottom lip trapped between my teeth. My father was extremely strict with protocol, as I assume King Evreux is. The only king who seemed to disregard protocol was the King of Rakushia. Instead of curtsies and handshakes, King Thelonious favored hugs and tenderness.
“We were angered to see the way you arrived, to see what you had endured while traveling to us. You were lucky you found my son, or you may not have made it intact, or as intact as you can be given thecircumstances.” I quickly glance at Tobias, knowing that it wasn’t him who held me in his arms as I fled the forest. It wasn’t him who drugged me and saved my life in the span of minutes.
He gives his head a slight shake and narrows his eyes. I wasn’t aware there was another prince, but I see now that they have the same color eyes. However, Tobias’s mirror that of someone who has been through hell, while Theo’s eyes are bright and unbothered. They have the same melodic quality of their voice that commands attention, respect. Their is was different, with Tobias having hints of copper. Theo’s looked like pale gold, at least in the little light a fire provided. They have the same sharpened jawline, but Tobias has a sprinkling of stubble while Theo has his face clean shaven. They could be identical, but it is obvious that Theo is happier than Tobias, freer.
“I understand your virtue has been taken by force.” King Evreux states, not as a question, but a statement. My eyes flash towards him, filled with surprise and panic. His own eyes filled with disgust and contemplation.
“Your Grace–” My attempt at a defense is met with a raised hand, silencing me, and I flinch. His gold adorned fingers glowing in the sunlight, reflecting against the room in flashes of yellow. His eyes widen slightly, but I break his stare by looking back at the floor.
“Master Pakin has assured us that you cannot be pregnant, due to a combination of herbs and whatnot. While I would prefer you continue to take the tonic the next couple of days, it may affect your ability to conceive a real heir, and that is what you are here for.” He scowls in irritation. Maybe he doesn’t want me to marry his son? “Given that this is an unusual situation, we used the time you were unconscious to deliberate what your fate will be. Your father was summoned–”
“My father?” I blurt out, knowing full well he would give them permission to cast me aside, not wanting me to tarnish his name. My heart begins to race at the idea of his face, furious, sending me to the wolves.
Did he come here? Did he see me in my medically induced sleep? Did he see what happened to me? The irritation in the king’s eyes cause me to lower mine again. Resisting the urge to cut him off again, my eyes find my bare feet, taking in the bruises and cuts that litter my flesh as I dig my nails into the palms of my hands to restrain another outburst.
“Your father and I came to an agreement. You will still marry my son, as there are no other valuable prospects of age, and this is an urgent matter. An heir for the realm is the only reason you are here, princess, otherwise we would find a new match. An heir was promised to me 10 years ago by your father,” He steps closer, and his hand finds my chin, forcing it up to look at him. His eyes search mine while he catches his breath. The hot air fans over my face, laced with wine and an herb I can’t place, no doubt some sort of tincture to keep the illness at bay. His strong fingers remind me of the man who held onto me in the forest, nothing but power and possession emanating from him, sending a shiver down my spine. “A promise you will deliver on. We will not have this conversation a second time. You will marry,soon. And as soon as you have had a successful bleed, your duties may begin.”
