Page 38 of Brighter Than Gold

Reyah

Callan woke with such a start, that it sent a hammering pain through my head when he shot to his feet from the bed. I was dizzy as the door opened and a young man carrying a tray of food was frozen in fear in the doorway, Callan’s towering figure looming over him.

“Just come in and leave it,” Callan sighed, seeing there was no threat.

We were both so exhausted that neither of us had moved an inch as we slept. Seeing Callan now in the sunlight made me want to weep. Abrasions and dried blood, and he kept an arm tightly around his center, bracing himself.

When the boy turned to leave, we saw Verosa standing in the doorway. She wore another sultry gown of burgundy silk and black lace, her long fingers laced together in front of her.

“What do you want?” Callan growled.

“If you act like an animal, then I’ll see you get put in the barn,” she snipped. “I’ve prepared a bath for Reyah.”

Hearing this, I rolled over in the bed. Slowly I sat up, eyes pinched tightly together as the thrumming pain from my concussion had not yet yielded.

“Would you like to follow me to the bathing room, Reyah?” Verosa asked.

I nodded, eyes still shut as I fought the pain behind them. I stood and took several small steps forward but suddenly lilted to one side, unable to find my balance. Callan reached out to steady me and I nearly collapsed onto the floor.

“Can you please…” I rasped, reaching up.

“Of course.” Callan leaned down and pulled me into his arms. He inhaled sharply through his teeth at the pain it caused him, and I felt some distant sense of guilt over needing to be carried.

Verosa led us back to one of the pretty, grey tiled bathing suites. Callan set me down on a stool as Verosa began to pour the steaming jugs of water into the bath.

“I’ll stay just outside of the door if you need me,” he said.

I reached up and took his hand. “No. Stay. I need you to stay.”

Callan looked down at me, and whatever he saw must have been so pitiful that he nodded in agreement.

“I want her to go…” I whispered, and motioned towards Verosa.

Callan nodded and turned to faced her. “I can finish doing that, my wife would like privacy.”

“Oh, but I would be happy to—”

“My wife will have privacy. Thank you.”

Verosa’s lips pinched into a thin line at being given such a firm order by her own prisoner, but she set down the pitcher in her hands, and with a prickly air of indignance, excused herself.

Both Callan and I shared a sense of relief when we were alone again. He continued filling the tub with the heavy pitchers until all but one was empty, and the room was clouded with warm, thick steam.

“It’s ready.”

I gathered my strength and stood from the stool. I started with the buttons on the neck of my dress, and Callan quickly turned away from me.

I stared down at the stained dress, the dark blood that stamped an end to my future in the palace. There was no pain, except for my head. And I thought I should feelmore. More dread, or sadness, or failure oranything. But I only felt empty.

I took a shuddering breath as I stepped over to Callan. He turned and glanced over a shoulder, quickly averting his eyes when he saw me fully undressed. But I didn’t care if he saw me naked. I didn’t care about anything through this all-consuming sense of indifference.

I turned him to face me and he did, keeping his eyes strictly on my face and off of my body. He let me pull the tunic up over his head. I paused when I saw the harsh purple bruising that had bloomed across his ribs. I lightly brushed my fingers across the marring injury, and he held his breath until I pulled my hand back.

I reached for his belt.

“What are you doing, Reyah…”

“It’s just a bath, and I—” I didn’t know what to say, I didn’t know what I needed. “I don’t want to be alone.”

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