Page 32 of Glass and Bone
“Better. My body is just trying to adjust to everything as is my mind.” I admit, not lying. I awoke this morning in significantly less pain. I removed my bandages and was surprised to see scabs that have settled, and the swelling nearly gone. My stitches are still in, but I am hoping I can get them taken out soon. The cramping in my abdomen has subsided, and even the blood has cleared up. While I may not look it, I am feeling better than I have in a really long time.
“Elaenor.” He stops, catching me by surprise, and looks at me. “I apologize for any pain I caused you. I don’t know if us kissing or maybe the way we were sitting contributed to your pain, I just don’t like seeing you hurt or bleeding.” His eyes are lined with silver as he looks down at me and it nearly knocks my breath away. I have never seen anyone look at another this way, with such care and desire. I reach for his other hand and bring it to my face, wanting no distance between us.
“It wasn’t you, Tobias. You weren’t the one to hurt me. Th-” My voice cracks and I steady myself, not wanting to let the threatening tears spill. I never used to be sensitive, I had a pretty strong backbone, but everyone has their breaking point and I hit mine a few days ago. “Those men were monsters. He knew what he was doing, and he knew who I was. And the herbs that I was told to take were important to ensure that any child I carry belongs to you. Thatwehave children, not me and some savage.” Pulling me into his chest, he kisses the top of my head, his arms wrapped around me tightly. I inhale the intoxicating scent of cedar and smoke, wanting to just get lost in him, in this, inus.
“He’s gone, Elaenor, they both are, along with anything they tried to create with you. You don’t have to be scared here. This palace is safe from creatures like him. You have my protection, Noterra’s protection, I promise.” Relaxing into his touch, I take a deep breath and nod.
I barely know Tobias, yet I find myself believing him. Believing in him. That he can make me happy, that he’ll treat me well. I feel nothing in this moment other than relief.
His fingers trace my spine as I lean back to look up at him. Hands on his chest, I stare into his eyes looking for any sort of hostility or danger that I keep fearing I’ll see, but nothing. Nothing but warmth fills his blue eyes, and that’s surprising. I don’t know if I’ll ever grow used to it.
I lean up onto my tip toes and press my lips to his. His hands tighten around me as he forces my lips to part, our tongues meeting. His breathing quickens as he intensifies the kiss, and I let him. I like how he feels against me, his strength, his protection. I want to be in his arms. This is what I have always wanted, what I have always dreamed of. I can feel that delicious heat pooling deep in my core, telling me that I want this more than anything.
Our embrace is short lived as a man, dressed much like Master Pakin but with a silver robe, walks up and whispers into Tobias’s ear. I search his face for any sort of recognition, but all I see is irritation. He nods as the man stops speaking, too low for me to hear. With a last glance and a slight bow in my direction, he turns on his heels and walks back the way he came. Tobias’s gaze meets mine and I stare up at him, concerned.
“Tobias, what is it?” I ask, my hands still on his chest, his around my waist.
“I have some urgent business to attend to. I’ll find you later.” He bends down and kisses me quickly before pulling my hands up to his lips and giving them a gentle brush of his lips. Walking in the direction of the other man, he disappears around a corner, leaving me standing in the hallway alone.
What am I supposed to do now?
I find myself wandering the halls in search of anything that I can remember. Every turn I make I am met with identical hallways. It seems the palace is much more like a circle than I previously realized. Without a guide to show me the way, I fear I’m lost. I had thought this was the way to the dining hall, but I seem to be getting deeper and deeper into the palace, areas I don’t recognize, and I haven’t yet found the staircase to lead me down a floor.
I pass two open double doors and to my surprise, it’s the throne room. I was here once as a child, but it seems larger than I remember, emptier even. The two grand chairs up on the raised platform boast excellence and a deep coffer filled with riches. Steel and stone intertwined to look like thorns and vines. A single red rose made of stained glass sits at the top of each back, connected to the vines by a single silver branch. Matching red cushions are nestled into the seat for comfort and looks. The thrones are beautiful, and I can hardly comprehend how the one on the right will be mine someday.
I step into the round room and look up. Clear glass windows line the ceiling, shaping it into a dome. The bright blue skies and fluffy clouds sprinkled about feel foreign, like a painting. Every time I look outside, I expect the deep gray clouds, but a smile never ceases to pop up when I realize my new reality.
I look around at the walls, which are remarkably bare with the exception of a single tapestry boasting the kingdom’s crest taking up the majority of the wall to the right. A diadem made out of thorns and vines, matching the thrones, covered in blood. It almost matches Evreux’s crown, but this one looks delicate and sharp. No doubt an ode to the way Evreux claimed this land, but what should make me look away in fear has me wanting to step closer. My hand brushes the woven fabric, and I can see the sparkle of silver thread intermixed with white and red catching on the light.
The clearing of a throat causes me to yelp and spin around, where I am met with the sight of Evreux. He’s wearing the same crimson cloak as before draped over a white tunic and matching trousers. His silver crown sitting atop his perfectly groomed blonde hair. His face cold, with the hint of a smile playing at the corner of his lips. His skin is looking gray, no sign of life, signaling that he’s getting sicker. His stature is looking leaner, as if he is struggling to keep on weight. I have to force my face to stay neutral instead of allowing the look of pity to fill my eyes. I can’t imagine how he feels every day when he looks in the mirror.
“Elaenor, do you like what you see?” He asks, his loud voice booming through the silence. Even as ill as he is, he still speaks with such power, but like before, I can hear the slight tremor at the end of his sentence. I swallow and do my best to hide my uneasiness as he steps closer, plastering a fake smile on my face.
“It’s beautiful.” I turn back towards the tapestry, letting my fingers linger over the woven blood as a distraction.
“I fought for this kingdom; it wasn’t handed to me.” His voice is close, his breath tickling my ear as I feel him barely brush my back. I stiffen slightly, regretting that I kept my defenses down. “That diadem,” He grabs my hand and guides it up to the thorns and I fight the urge to pull it out of his cold and calloused grasp. “Represents strength and sacrifice. The rose is the native flower of Noterra, but rather than focusing on the petals, I built a kingdom out of thorns. They have the power to cut and wound while a flower is merely there for beauty and attention, much like a woman.” His grip on my hand tightens as he holds it flat against the tapestry, his breath hot on my neck. I can smell a tincture, sweet and spicy.
“It’s a beautiful way to incorporate every part of the flower.” I sputter. He drops my hand and places his on my shoulder, spinning me around so I’m facing him, only inches between us. He leans down, looking into my eyes, his hands sliding to my waist. I freeze, unable to figure out what to do with my hands other than dig my nails into my palms. I can feel his fingers squeeze my sides, holding me in place.
“My late wife had a crown made to look just like this. Thorns and vines made out of silver with large diamonds pressed into it.” His eyes are gleaming with mischief as he flicks his tongue out to lick his lips. “It will be yours someday soon.” His hand reaches up and a knuckle grazes my bruised cheek. His gaze flits to my mouth before returning to my eyes. I steady my breath, trying to avoid the intensity of his stare as much as possible. Curious, dark eyes search my face as I stand there with my heart pounding furiously in my chest. I’m not entirely convinced he can’t hear it. “You look just like her.” He whispers, sorrow filling his fierce eyes.
“Queen Amaya?” I whisper. I remember her with golden hair, much like Tobias’s, and gray eyes that nearly match the stone of the Chatisian palace.
“No, Sybil, your mother. She was so beautiful.” His voice quiets as he gets lost in thought. His hand frozen on my face. I was unaware they had met; my mother didn’t attend the trip to the palace when I was younger, my father made her stay behind. I remember them fighting about it before my father ultimately won. I wonder if it had something to do with Evreux? It’s world knowledge that king’s often take mistresses, but if a queen does it’s a justifiable cause for a beheading. Why does he look so vulnerable when he mentions her? He looks hurt, broken.
“She was.” I whisper. His eyes flash back to my lips, and I feel him take a small step forward, closing what little space there was between us. My breathing catches as I feel his chest press into mine and something else, somethingharderpresses into my lower stomach. I swallow loudly.Oh gods,what am I supposed to do?
“It is no secret my illness has progressed, that’s why you’re here, Elaenor. However, an heirforthe kingdom is what I need from you. I could care less about some silly little wedding.” He chuckles darkly and a chill snakes down my spine causing me to shutter. His hand opens and grips my chin, jerking it roughly to the side. Leaning down, his nose rubs against my neck as he inhales. I squeeze my eyes shut, panic flooding my veins.
“So you want me to conceive an heir with Tobias prior to our wedding?” I ask, my voice cracking as I try not to move.
“Not entirely. You see, Elaenor, a child to continue the line is what a king requires, it secures their rule. Any bride can provide this, but I chose you a long, long time ago.” His lips brush my throat as I swallow, hoping for anything to stop his touch. “Tobias needs a son, and he will get one, but given your father’s inability to produce a boy, you seem to have an unfair advantage to only birth girls. You need someone who has ahistoryof male children. As long as it’s kept in the family, he’ll never know that a child isn’t his.” He hisses, making the hair on my neck straighten. He presses a wet kiss to the inside of my throat, his arm further snaking around my waist, pulling me tightly against him. I swallow against his lips, sweat beading on my forehead.
I silently beg for anyone, someone, to walk by and get me out of this. He’s the king. How am I supposed to defend myself?
“Your Grace.” My voice croaks as I try to understand what it is he’s implying. His teeth graze my skin and I squirm. The small moan that comes out of his mouth tells me he enjoyed the movement.
“There would be no way to tell who the father is. As long as the child carries the bloodline, I could care less. It’smyblood that will flow through their veins regardless. I can make you happy in bed, my love. Atrueman.” His nose trails up my jaw, he lips almost meeting mine. “Say yes.” He hisses, his breath catching on the words.
