Page 18 of Glass and Bone
“Poppies? Aren’t they poisonous?” I freeze, the glass pausing in the air in front of my lips.
“Not in the dose you are taking, it is mixed with other herbs and fruits to dilute it. It’ll just help you heal quickly with minimal scarring.” I nod and drain the glass again, feeling the effects already.
“What’s going to happen to me?” I whisper.
“I am not sure, Your Grace. That is not a decision I am a part of.” He offers me a reassuring smile. I try to think of anything else to say, but my mind is blank. “What I can say is that the council has been deliberating your future the last few days. I feel as if they are taking into account everything you have experienced as well as the needs of the kingdom. I don’t think any rash decisions will be made. As much as your situation may seem undesirable, Tobias is getting older and needs to wed. I also believe the prince has a soft spot for you already.” He smiles, his cheeks reddening. How could Tobias already have feelings for me? We haven’t even met, well we did once as children but that doesn’t truly count.
“Has he been here?” I run my fingers along the edge of the glass, refusing to meet his gaze.
“Every chance he gets, Your Grace.” I smile and try to hide my blushing cheeks. “He has been ensuring you are well taken care of. Despite the annoyance his presence sometimes brings, it is touching to see the prince act in a way he normally doesn’t. He was quite fearful for you, scared that you’ll have permanent scars to remind you of what you endured.”
“That is unexpected.” I whisper. “I wasn’t sure what to expect of my arrival or his feelings about my presence.” I admit. I know that I am unsure about our situation, but I never stopped to consider whathemust be feeling.
“From what I have seen, the prince seems very fond of you. I think the king is taking that into account when discussing what to do about your situation.” The sound of footsteps makes us both turn our attention to the ornate double doors framed in silver and dark wood, marking the entrance and exit of the room. Muffled voices try to make their way through but fail. It’s quiet for a moment before I hear the doorknob turn. When the door finally opens, a man I instantly recognize, strides in.
Eyes the lightest shade of blue meet mine. Filled with strength, anger, and power, his nearly silver irises scan my body. Short, golden waves with hints of copper brush his forehead, just barely touching his eyebrows, shorter than the last time I saw him. His cheekbones are high and wide, giving him a perfect angular face. His lips are plump and rosy. He has a fine dusting of facial hair along his jaw, the makings of a small beard.
His black tunic and trousers complement his tan skin perfectly, hugging his body in a way that shows off his relentless training, that and his broad shoulders that seem to take up the entire room. He is the most gorgeous man I have ever seen. If I thought Theo looked like a painting, Tobias looks like a god. I curse my lack of practice with paint as I stare at him. No portrait would ever be able to capture him. With a strong stance and corded muscles tensing under his shirt, he looks as if he could take on the entire kingdom and walk away unscathed. However, I can see his pain. His sorrow, set deep in his eyes, is tenfold what I saw as a child.
I unabashedly stare at him, my breath exhaling in one long deep stream of air. I can feel goosebumps line my arms and adrenaline running down my spine, giving me a short burst of energy.
“Your Grace.” The master acknowledges as he stands and bows slightly.
Tobias.
As I sit here, frozen in this bed with nothing but a sheet and a nightdress that doesn’t belong to me, I want to run and hide. His eyes devouring my body as he looks me up and down makes me feel slightly uncomfortable. I am the definition of vulnerability at the moment and cannot even begin to comprehend how ragged I must look. I hate howthisversion of myself is going to be his first impression of me.
“Elaenor, you are awake.” His voice is smooth and strong. Deep, but lyrical and familiar, bearing no resemblance to the voice of the child I once met. I could listen to him speaking all day and never get tired of hearing the sound. Not that his statement required an answer, I nod, as that seems to be the only thing I am capable of at this moment. “How are you feeling?” He asks as he walks over to me. His rough fingers gently grip my chin and tilt my head up until I am looking at him. “Your face.” He whispers as his eyes darken and his lips press into a thin line.
His free hand brushes what I am assuming is one of the many cuts on my forehead. Tobias’s fingers lightly touch the bandage and I wince from the pain. A flash of empathy fills his eyes but is quickly replaced with anger. He smells like cedar and smoke, a lethal combination that makes me want to get lost in him. A smell that makes me want to lean against him and feel his warmth. A smell that reminds me of an afternoon in the woods, which is a strange smell coming from someone who’s sparkling clean boots look as if they have never left these marble halls. His breath fans across my face before he clenches his jaw. He drops his hands and steps back, his arms crossing in front of his chest, and I already miss his touch.
His features are angry, hardened. Nothing like the 10-year-old boy I met so long ago. He looks like he’s been through a lot, which he has.
The news that Queen Amaya passed not so long after my own mother spread through our kingdom quickly. She wasn’t murdered like mine, but instead died during childbirth, much like many women before her. It was a little girl, who died during the birth as well. He lost a mother and a sister in one day.
When the news of the queen’s death reached us, I remember the mourning that occurred. We had only just ended the period of mourning for my mother, when the black clothing made its way out of the wardrobes again. My father attended the funeral, leaving me in the care of the Hand and my ladies. The Noterran king didn’t attend my mother’s funeral, but it was expected that my father would extend that courtesy.
I remember Scarlett telling me about the small bundle wrapped in cloth sitting next to the queen on the pyre. She didn’t attend, but she heard the kingsguard speaking about it upon their return. Her name was Thea. I remember how saddened I felt thinking about my own siblings who did not survive birth as well. I glance down, not wanting him to see the sorrow or pity in my eyes.
“Tobias. It’s been 10 years.” I finally speak, staring at the floor. My voice doesn’t sound nearly as strained, and I silently thank the nectar I consumed. My fingers stop their nervous spinning of the glass and I set it on the bed next to me. With my luck, I would drop it and then have to deal with the shattered pieces.
“It has. You look the same. Even your unruly black hair you could never seem to tame.” I look up and see the corner of his mouth twitch, hinting at a smile. I smile in return, not even wanting to know what I look like at the moment. While strangers, I feel as if I know him, as if my entire existence culminated for this very moment. The familiarity of his face is calming, slowly pushing out the fear I have. Maybe things are not as bad as they seem.
Maybeheisn’t as bad as I have heard.
“You look different.” I say, searching his face for any resemblance to his childlike self. The features of his younger self are there, but the hardening, maturing of his jaw line make him look completely different. I could just barely see stubble covering his jawline, shining like gold leaf in the sun.
“A decade of time has passed, Elaenor. The difference is to be expected.” His voice is steady, emotionless as his eyes stare into mine, and I swallow against the lump that has formed in my throat. I have no idea how to speak to him, what to say, what to do. I was never taught how to speak to men, how to appeal to them. I was told to stay quiet, silent, unless spoken to. I was never really good at following instructions though.
“I was very sorry to hear about your mother and your sister.” I whisper and offer a soft smile. “It was a tragedy felt across the kingdoms.”
“As was I to hear about yours.” He returns my smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. We just stare in silence. It shouldn’t be this hard, or awkward, to communicate. Yet, I find I don’t have anything I wish to say to him. My heart skips and I bite my bottom lip.
The master is the first to speak as he stands and walks over to me, stepping in front of Tobias. His fingers lift the bandage on my forehead as he inspects one of my many wounds. No doubt uncomfortable by our awkward exchange. You could cut the tension in the air, its thickness suffocating any rational thoughts in my head.
“Your head wound seems to have finally closed.” He murmurs to me as I silently wince from his touch, my lips pressing into a thin line.
“Will she heal quickly, Pakin? Will she scar?” Tobias asks as he peers over his shoulder, watching his movements carefully.
