Page 138 of The Second Death of Locke
Leonie rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut up, Kier. I was going to send for you as soon as I answered Locke’s questions.”
He sighed, but his shoulders relaxed. He perched on the side of Grey’s bed, resting a hand on her knee over the covers. “I see that you have viscera in your hair again.”
Grey managed a smile. “You’re the one who wanted a lifetime of washing blood from my person.”
Leonie got up, gathering her things. “You two have theweirdestrelationship.”
Neither denied it.
When her bag was packed, she said, “Seward, I expect you to keep her in bed—not like that, you deviant. Cleoc and Scaelas will want to see her, but Scaelas is also forbidden from moving, so Cleoc willhave to manage going between their sickbeds one at a time. And I swear to you, Grey, I do not care if you are my High Lady—I will not hesitate to maim you if you pull out your stitches.”
Grey raised an eyebrow. She was more used to Kier being on the receiving end of Leonie’s threats. “Right you are,” she said.
As soon as Leonie left, Grey sighed. She pressed a hand to her stomach, assessing. “How bad was it?”
Kier winced. “Bad.”
“Run through?”
“Edge of death, Flynn.” He kept his voice light, but he still gripped her knee with a fear that she understood. She was usually the one feeling that fear forhislife.
“Mm.” She swung her legs over the bed, gasping at the rush of pain. Kier was there in an instant, his hands fluttering, searching for somewhere to push her back down that would not hurt. “What are you doing?”
“The Isle won’t run itself,” Grey said, wincing in pain.
He settled for her shoulder, grasping it and pushing her carefully down to the pillows. She sucked in a breath at the pain, and he pulled back immediately, as if burned. “I’ll call Leonie back,” he threatened.
“Kier…”
“I’ll get you Cleoc and Ikaaron,” Kier said, stepping back, “so you can at least feel useful. But so help me, gods, Iwillput Eron in charge of feeding you until you are better if you try to leave this room.”
Grey narrowed her eyes. “You wouldn’t.”
“Don’t try me, Locke,” he said on his way out.
The combined efforts of Kier and Leonie only managed to keep her in bed for two days before Grey rose in the middle of the night, slipped away as Kier slept and crept downstairs and into her office. Scaelas’s guards saw her as she passed, but they only sighed and shook their heads—their own High Lord had performed a similar maneuver in the hour before, and he hadn’t even had to sneak past a commander in his bed.
She’d only been behind her desk for half an hour before a soft knock sounded on her door. She looked up as the High Lord slippedinside, limping heavily, favoring his right side.
“You too?” she asked, brow raised.
He nodded, taking the chair across the desk. “That medic of yours is…” he trailed off, searching for a word that fit before he settled on “persistent.”
“She’syourmedic,” Grey said, turning her attention back to one of Cleoc’s treaty amendments. “Leonie is Scaelan.”
Torrin sighed. “Ah, I don’t think so. Not anymore.”
Grey’s eyes flicked to his. “I can’t steal all your best soldiers.”
“You should have people here you trust, Maryse,” he said softly.
She set the amendments aside, chewing on her lip. “We should get Cleoc,” she said darkly. “Since they won’t let us meet otherwise.”
Scaelas quirked a brow. “I can send for her, if you want.”
“I don’t know what I want.” She sat back in her chair, trying not to wince as her stitches tugged. “I don’t know how to reward anyone. How to thank anyone. How to make up for the lives lost, or the power I’ve taken.” She rubbed her brow, wishing she could find the answers on the backs of her eyelids.
“Ah. Epras and Luthos grow restless.”
