by Frost Kay
She cried louder, hating that she’d used his name unbidden. That she was thankful he’d kept his word.
“It’s okay, ma fleur,” Lilja murmured, stroking the hair at her temple.
Sage untangled her left hand from her aunt and pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes, hoping to stop the flow of tears. Relief. She felt sheer bloody relief.
Mira placed a hand on her right shoulder. “It’s over, Sage. It’s over.”
It was far from over. But it was one less nightmare that would plague her each night.
Glass shattered, startling her. She met Mira’s widened eyes as Jacob cursed loudly from the other room.
“Missy, everything is all right,” Jacob said loudly.
“Who the bloody hell are you?”
Sage bolted upright, almost cracking her head against Mira’s. “Jasmine.”
Jasmine
She swiped at her eyes and tried to make sense of where she was. Her throat ached something fierce, and she longed for a drink of water. But what she wanted more were answers.
Her fingers slipped along the petite dagger she’d snatched off the table near her side. An old man held both hands up placatingly as she shifted to the side, eyeing the basin she’d thrown at him.
“It’s okay, missy. My name is Jacob.”
She blinked the sweat from her eyes and held the dagger out in front of her. Her arm shook, and each breath was wheezed and horridly painful. Her eyes felt like they were full of sand, and her lids weighed a million pounds. All she wanted to do was lie down and go to sleep, but fear had her holding the blade higher.
Had the Scythians gotten her again? The little old man didn’t look Scythian, but that didn’t mean anything. All it meant was that they’d captured an old man who looked to be Aermian, although there was something about his eyes. They shone like copper behind his spectacles. She’d not seen eyes like those before.
“I will only ask one time. What do you want with me?” she rasped. He opened his mouth, but she shook her head. “Think carefully of your answer, or I might be tempted to slit you from your navel to your gullet.”
“I’m Jacob, Royal Healer of Aermia.”
She scoffed. Why would the royal Healer be tending to her? Likely story. “Listen here, you old coot—"
“Jas,” a familiar voice whispered.
Jasmine froze then peeked over her shoulder at the one person she had been to hell with. “Sage?”
The green-eyed beauty slowly approached her like she approached a dangerous animal. “I’m here, Jas. We’re both safe.”
“Safe?” she asked.
Sage gave her a wobbly smile. “Yeah, relatively.”
Jas’s time in Scythia had taught her that nowhere was safe. People only experienced the appearance of safety. She shakily gestured to the old man edging around her cot. “And him?”
“He’s harmless. Jacob is the palace Healer. He and Mira.” Sage gestured to the blond woman with huge blue eyes behind her. “They’ve been taking care of you. You’re very ill.”
Stars above, her fatigued body agreed with that statement. It was worse than when she’d been thrown from her horse when she was thirteen. Everything pained her, but it was her labored breathing that bothered her the most. It was like breathing with a wet rag stuffed inside her mouth.
A growl startled her, and she stared down at the beast in which her fingers had found purchase. She gaped at the large golden eyes staring at her. A leren. A bloody leren. Flashes of the man-eater surfaced in her mind.
“Nali?” Jasmine asked.
The beast chuffed and settled down while Jasmine tried to process everything around her. The room began to spin, and she placed her hand with the dagger on the cot to steady herself. She lifted her head to stare at Sage. “The twins?”
Sage smiled. “They’re here. In the palace.”
The blade slid from her fingers and clattered noisily to the floor. All that mattered were the children. The room spun, and Jasmine smiled as everything dimmed.
Her family was safe.
The second time she woke, it was much more peaceful.
Jasmine opened her eyes and stretched, a huge yawn cracking her jaw.
“Jasmine?” a soft-spoken voice called.
Glancing to the right, she locked eyes with the lovely blond she vaguely remembered. “Who are you?”
The blond smiled at her, flashing white straight teeth. “I’m Mira. I’m your healer.” She abandoned her herbs on a sturdy wooden table, wove through the cots, and paused by her side. “How are you feeling?”
Like someone had punched her in the chest repeatedly. “I’ve been better.”
Mira knelt by her side and held out her hand. “Will you permit me to check your temperature?”
She snorted, the motion causing her throat to scream in pain. “I think we passed pleasantries and manners by now if you’ve been tending to me,” she rasped. Her brows furrowed. How long exactly had the healers been taking care of her. “How long have I been here?” she asked, as Mira lay cool fingers against her brow.
“Almost three weeks.”
Jasmine flinched. Three weeks? “As long as that?”
The healer pulled away and placed two fingertips on the underside of her wrist. “You’ve been very ill, Jasmine. It’s a miracle that your fever broke.”
The severe expression of the healer’s face chilled Jasmine. She must have been at death’s door.
“How surprised are you that I’m awake and speaking to you right now?” She studied the blond’s features carefully. Reading people was a particular skill of hers. Most of the time, she could tell when someone lied to her.
But the healer didn’t shy away from her question. “I didn’t think you’d survive. You sustained grievous injuries on your way to Aermia. Then, being exposed to the elements and taking a swim in the chilly water so late in the year did nothing for your health. The sickness settled in your lungs, and we’ve battled it ever since.”
Jasmine rubbed a hand over her chest. Her breaths now weren’t exactly painful, but they weren’t comfortable. Her thoughts turned to her niece and nephew. She needed to see them. “Am I contagious?”
“No. Otherwise, the princess would not have been allowed to visit you.”
“Sage has been visiting?”
“Every single day. You actually just missed her. The crown prince summoned her, or she’d still be here by your side.”
She was beyond lucky to have such a friend to care and watch over her. Jasmine eyed Mira as she tucked the blanket around her feet and bustled to the fireplace, pulling a kettle with care from the heat. She didn’t doubt that this woman had much to do with her survival. The infirmary was clearly her domain. It was evident by the way she moved with confidence.
“Thank you,” Jasmine said.
The healer glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “There’s no need to thank me. I did what anyone else would.”
“That I highly doubt. And I would be grateful to anyone who brought me back to my littles.” She paused. “Can I see them?”
Mira slipped around the cot with a cup of tea in her hand and sat in the chair next to Jas. She placed the cup on a little side table and wiggled an arm underneath her shoulders. “Can you sit up?”
Jasmine nodded, but she gasped out a breath when pain slammed into her.
“Yep, those are the broken ribs. Luckily for you, you’ve slept through the worst of it.”
If this wasn’t the worst of it, broken ribs must be something truly heinous. She gritted her teeth and sat up slowly with the help of Mira. The healer plucked the cup of tea from the table with her other hand and held it to her lips.
“Drink up. It will soothe your throat and help with the pain.”
Jas obeyed and blew on the liquid before taking a swallow. It burned a little, but it soothed her dry, scratchy throat, which was a godsend.
After a few more gulps, Mira pulled the cup away, and she licked her lips. She hadn’t forgotten that the h
ealer hadn’t answered her question. If she wouldn’t get the children sick, there was no one who could keep them from her. She’d drag herself from the damn room if that’s what it took.
“My children,” she stated. “I want to see them.”
The healer nodded and placed the cup back on the table before lowering her back to the cot. “I promise you will see them soon.”
“Do they know I’m here?” Alive.
“No, they do not.”
Anger was her first emotion. “Why?” she bit out.
Serious blue eyes peered into her own stormy gaze. “We didn’t know if you’d make it. I did everything in my power to bring you back to your little ones. There was talk of letting them know you were here, but, in the end, it was decided no. Could you imagine if we let them see you and then you died?” she murmured.
Jasmine’s anger melted away. That made sense. These people were only looking out for Jade and Ethan. She reached out and clasped the blond’s hand. “Thank you. I understand the decision you made. But what about now?”
“I think it will be best if you gained more strength before we brought them in.”
Her heart screamed ‘no,’ but her head told her it was a good plan. The children wouldn’t suffer in her absence. She’d be the only one to suffer, but she knew she wasn’t strong enough to care for them now, nor let them leave her again. They’d never leave her sight again.
The next week passed with long, boring bouts of silence and naps. Each day, her body gained strength. She’d come to enjoy her visits with the Royal Healer, Jacob. He had an interesting mind and an even more interesting sense of humor.
She looked forward to her daily visits with Sage. Her friend tried her best to be positive, but darkness clung to her like a cloak. Jas couldn’t imagine the horrors that had been rent on her during their time in Scythia. Her own short visit to the warlord’s chamber would haunt her for the rest of her life, and that was only a handful of minutes. Sage had been there for months.
Jasmine glanced down to her shoulder and ran her finger over the long thin scar that she’d carry until she died. What kind of scars did her friend carry?
She closed her eyes and paused in her rocking. Over the last week, nausea would strike at the oddest times and leave just as quickly. The worst part was that she didn’t have an appetite, so all she did was dry-heave. Then there was the fatigue. It was like she couldn’t keep her eyes open. All she wanted to do was sleep.
Her stomach churned, and she leaned forward, her head between her knees, and panted. Sometimes if she breathed just right, she wouldn’t dry-heave.
A weathered hand appeared underneath her nose, and, with it, the bitter scent of peppermint. “Thank you, Jacob,” she croaked. She inhaled deeply through her nose while the Healer ran a palm across the top of her back.
“My pleasure, missy.”
He continued his ministrations until the bout passed, and she straightened in the rocking chair she had absconded from the elderly man. Jacob moved around her chair and eased himself into the one across from her.
“How are you feeling today?” he asked.
Jasmine waved a hand at him. “Better and stronger each day.”
He pierced her with his unique gaze and then tapped his right temple. “How about up here?”
She shrugged a shoulder. “I’m tired. Honestly? Awful.” She paused and glanced toward the door for eavesdroppers.
“You can speak freely here.”
“I know, but I just don’t want anyone overhearing one word.” She turned back to Jacob and heaved a sigh. “I feel guilty.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t suffer what Sage did.” She shook her head and stared into the fire. “I can see the torment clinging to the princess, the pain. But I didn’t experience that. The worst I suffered was fear. Fear of not being able to come back. Fear of not seeing Jade and Ethan again.” She swallowed. “The men weren’t bad. They had strict rules—but those were to protect me. They never hurt me.”
In the past week, she’d found herself even missing them. They weren’t bad men. They were just stuck in a bad situation.
The side of her face prickled the longer Jacob stared. “What?” she asked tiredly, turning to the Healer. “You clearly have something on your mind.”
The old man steepled his fingers and closed his eyes. He sighed and then scooted his chair closer to her. Jasmine frowned as he pulled her hand between his. “Jasmine. Those men weren’t good people.”
Her frown deepened. “Just because they’re Scythian doesn’t make them bad people. That’s prejudice of a nasty kind, and I’m surprised to hear such generalities from you.”
“That’s not what I meant, missy.”
He stared at her with a sorrow that made her breath catch. “Then, what do you mean?”
His face creased, and his lips flattened. “Jasmine, love, I have some news that might distress you.”
Her mind flashed to the twins. “Are the twins okay?” she asked, squeezing his hand.
“The twins are just fine. It’s you whom I’m worried about.”
“Pah, I’m just fine.”
His face creased even more. “Love, I believe you are with child.”
“What?”
“You have all the signs,” he said gently. “Fatigue, nausea, lack of the flow.”
She flinched, and her gaze dropped to her belly. “It’s not possible,” she muttered while staring at the little bulge she’d not given a second glance at until now.
“I’m so sorry, Jasmine.”
She yanked her eyes from her belly. “It-it can’t be possible. I’ve never…” Bile flooded her mouth, and she swallowed, feeling sick. “I can’t be!” Her voice was shrill even in her own ears. “They never touched me.” He squeezed her hand, but she barely felt it.
“Are there any timeframes, any days, you cannot remember? Sometimes, certain drugs…”
His voice became fuzzy as she stared blankly at the fire, its heat not warming her in the slightest. She did have missing periods of time. Every night was a blank after dinner. She slept well through the night, and nothing ever disturbed her. That she knew of.
“But they protected me,” she said, her voice wobbly. “They cared for me.”
“Jasmine. Those who love and care for us, don’t take without asking. They don’t steal from and harm those they love.”
Her lip trembled. “I can’t believe it.”
“We can do an examination whenever you wish.” His lips pressed harder together. “But it’s my opinion that you are, indeed, with child.”
She pulled her hand from the Healer’s and laced her fingers together. “As soon as Mira returns, she’ll do the examination and prove you wrong.”
She folded her arms. They’d see.
“So?” Jasmine asked, sitting up.
Mira stepped away from her and washed her hands in the bowl behind her. Slowly, the woman turned to her, her face desolate, no expression at all.
Her stomach dropped. “No.” Mira blinked and moved to touch her arm, but Jasmine yanked her arm away. “No!”
“You are, indeed, with child, Jasmine.”
“But they took care of me.” How could they do this? Heat filled her eyes as a big ugly sob erupted from her chest. Chills broke out along her arms as her body flashed hot and then cold.
Mira wrapped her arms around Jasmine, pulled her into a hug, and began to rock her. “It’s okay. We’ll get through this. You’re not alone.”
Alone. She was alone. She had no husband. No memory of the creation of the being that was now growing inside her without her permission.
Darkness began to creep into her vision, and the room spun as ice crept through her body. Someone was screaming, a horrible, ugly, gut-wrenching sound of pain and sorrow, but she couldn’t lift her head to see who it was.
Huge arms wrapped around her, and she turned into the warmth, trying to burrow into it. Hoping, praying that it would keep the stabbing chill of b
etrayal from completely freezing what was left of her broken heart.
Sam
He tightened his arms around the woman breaking apart in his arms. Her gut-wrenching sobs tore at his heart. “It’s okay,” he soothed, staring over Jasmine’s head at Mira, who looked like she was about to break into tears herself.
Jasmine jerked away from him, almost clipping him in the chin, her tear-stained face turned upward. Something in his chest clenched when her glazed, blue eyes met his.
“They destroyed me,” she cried, her eyes rolling into her head, and she slumped into his arms.
“What in the bloody hell?” he whispered, staring wide-eyed at the woman in his arms. “What happened?”
“It’s not my place to say,” Mira hiccupped, her eyes liquid. “Keep her head elevated.”
“Like hell, it isn’t,” Sam barked, rearranging Jasmine so her neck wasn’t crooked. He narrowed his eyes at the healer. “So help me, Mira. I’ll shake it out of you if I have to. No one cries like that unless an atrocity has happened.” His stomach dropped. The only thing Jasmine had really spoken about were the twins. “Are her children all right?”
“The twins are fine, but…” Mira swallowed and shook her head. “Bring her to the other room where we can warm her by a proper fire. I’ll explain more then, once I’ve had a chance to care for her.”
Sam rose and followed Mira out of the room. Jacob rocked in the rocking chair, his white hair sticking up in every direction like he’d been running his hands through it. He watched them enter the room, his mouth turned downward. Sam placed Jasmine down gently and stepped aside, so Mira could make her comfortable. He crossed his arms and shifted on his feet, feeling restless. He hated being in the dark.
“For the second time, I ask, what is wrong?”
Mira cast a glance to her father, and they stared at each other, a silent conversation passing between the two of them. Jacob broke first and met his gaze.
“I’d hoped to be wrong,” the old man rasped. “She’s been sick for so long, but the nausea, fatigue, and lack of appetite…”