Page 69 of Upon Buried Embers
“Yes, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”
“You’re bleeding, hurting yourself because you tried to clean up a mess and you’re sorry!” He explodes, and I cry out in fear, squeezing my eyes shut.
I’ve messed up.
Done something wrong.
I’ve been bad.
Hands on my face have my eyes flying open, and Rohan is there, right in front of me, eyes shining with something I’m unsure of.
“Calm. Copy me.” I have no idea what he’s talking about, but then I see him take a deep breath, and I do the same, my lungs aching with the air coming in. “Good. Another.”
I continue to breathe in his rhythm, calming myself, unsure what just happened and eventually, I’m breathing right on my own.
I can’t even do that right it seems.
“I didn’t mean—”
“Hush.” I do, clamping my lips together.
He guides me over to the bed and sits me on it, holding out a hand.
“The mess,” I protest.
“Fuck the mess.”
I bite the inside of my lip and place my hand in his. I wince when he begins to pick glass out of it.
“Stupid girl, it’s just a smashed bowl.”
A smashed bowl would usually get me a smashed face.
Rohan is quiet as he clears my hand of glass, a frown on his face at my every wince. Then he clears the mess up off the floor, replacing it with another bowl out of a chest. This one wooden.
“Change into a new tunic, and then come and wash me.”
I nod without question and he leaves to get in the bath. I put on a fresh tunic, teeth rattling, mindful of the little cuts on my hand.
It could be worse, I tell myself.
Going to Rohan, I take the cloth he nods to, and rub soap into it, ignoring the sting.
I start with Rohan’s arm, his shoulders and neck. Then he leans his head back, eyes half-closed as he watches me do his chest, the dark hair there barely visible.
“It may hurt a little, but it will make sure they’re thoroughly clean.”
I nod.
“It’s your punishment for even attempting to clean that up when it can hurt you, especially when I didn’t allow it.” I look at him, confused. “This way, you feel each sting on your hands from the soap, rather than the sting of my palm on your ass. Now, remember you do not do that to yourself ever again. Or it will be my hand.” A pause. “Or the poles.”
I blink in surprise, still confused and shocked.
He’s giving me this punishment so I don’t hurt myself in the future?
“Did you speak to a dragon, Little Whisperer?” he asks after a while, pulling me out of my confusion.
I shake my head. “Another dragon helped me with the stone, Solia. Drogonah ignored me, and I’m sure he rolled his eyes at me. I didn’t want to pester in fear of being his dinner.”
