Broken Promise (The Broken Ones Book 3)

by Jen Wylie

  Closing her eyes, she focused on calming the sudden trembling coursing through her. Kei would come back. He would, and he'd need her. She had to stay strong for him.

  Once out of the tub, she borrowed a robe from a peg to wear while she towel-dried her hair and then tried to brush the knots out.

  Leaving the robe on, since Roan had promised her clothes, she paced the bedroom and took time to study the room. He had an impressive collection of books but she wasn't sure if he'd be angry if she took one down to read.

  In wandering the room, she found her boots tucked under a table, socks stuffed inside. Strange, but she wasn't going to complain. The boots were one of the first things she'd bought, and she'd barely gotten them worn in. A grin spread across her face when she found her boot knives still safely sheathed inside each. Now if only she could find her other weapons.

  A knock at the door made her freeze. Roan never knocked. "Miss? I've lunch!"

  She let the boy in. He didn't say another word as he quickly set a tray on the desk and hurried out again. She waited for a little while, but eventually irritated Roan hadn't returned, started to eat.

  Of course she'd almost finished when he walked in.

  She stood as he turned to close the door, eying the parcel tucked under his arm.

  He frowned when he caught sight of her. "You're wearing my robe."

  "You're holding my clothes. I hope," she added.

  He held out the package. She took it quickly and headed to the bed.

  "You ate without me?"

  "You're late."

  "You're feeling better, I see."

  Placing the large parcel on the bed, she sat beside it and gave him a small smile. "I am."

  While he sat to eat, she opened the top and picked up the small piece on top. Underclothes. With lace on the edge. The next piece of clothing left her puzzled. A loose, sleeveless white shirt, more underclothes she guessed, but with no support, she didn't see the point of it. The dark green shirt below had a pretty scoop neck. Holding it up, she was relieved to see it wasn't loose, but fitted with narrow sleeves. Lifting it higher, she saw the strange bell cuffs, and realized it wasn't a shirt at all.

  "You don't like it?"

  She continued to stare. "You…you bought me a dress?"

  "You didn't want a dress?"

  Turning to him, she shook her head incredulously. "Was I wearing a dress? Wither me, I can't remember the last time I wore one."

  He shrugged and turned his attention back to his food. "The seamstress said it was warm and the latest fashion. You'll look nice in it."

  "Nice?" Her voice rose. "How am I supposed to fight in this?"

  With a sigh, he turned to regard her stonily. "You aren't to fight in it. You aren't to be fighting at all. That is why you are here."

  Pressing her lips together angrily, she set the dress down. "Then how am I to practice?"

  "Practice what?"

  "Fighting!" Rotting Elf, was he being so stubborn on purpose?

  He rubbed his forehead, muttered something under his breath, and then gestured toward the bathroom. "Go get dressed."

  Grinding her teeth, she gathered everything up and stomped into the bathroom, slamming the door closed behind her. Putting on the lacey bottoms and white shirt was easy enough, especially as she hadn't bothered rebinding her ribs. She got the dress on but found herself at a loss on how to do up the lacings on the back.

  "Rotting Elf." She hollered for Roan.

  A moment later the door flung open and he stared at her holding the dress to her chest. "What's wrong?"

  "How do I do this up?"

  He stared, blinked, and then withdrew, slamming the door behind her. She cursed again, until she heard him yelling in the hall. "Aya!"

  Wonderful. Apparently she now got to meet one of his women.

  Aya was not what she expected. Human, in her late twenties, the battle-scarred woman had short-cropped hair and dressed like a man. Why couldn't Roan have gotten her clothes like that?

  Seeing the problem, the woman rolled her eyes and closed the door to the hall. "He wouldn't help?"

  Aro snorted and shook her head. "I'll trade you the dress for what you're wearing."

  She got a crooked smile. "That's a bad deal."

  Grimacing, Aro turned her back. "Rotting dresses. Why would he get me a dress?"

  "He wants his woman to be pretty."

  She snapped her head around. "I'm not his anything!"

  Aya held up her hands a moment, chuckled at the fierceness she saw on Aro's face, and began tightening the laces. "Whatever the situation may be, it is safer if people think you are," she said quietly. "No one crosses Roan, or takes what's his."

  Clenching her fists, Aro kept her mouth closed until she hissed in pain as Aya jerked on the laces.

  "Ribs still hurting?"

  "Yes," she said through gritted teeth. Had Aya been the one to tend her wounds, or were his people talking about her?

  "You heal fast."

  She knew the woman was fishing for information. What did others think, seeing her cuts and bruises heal faster than humanly possible? Perhaps they thought her an Elf or Were. With her strange Fey eyes, it wouldn't surprise her. Of course they'd never think her a Fey. Her eyes weren't glowing and she wasn't trying to rip their throats out.

  "Finished."

  "Thank you, Aya."

  "You should put up your hair."

  "I don't think so."

  Aya laughed and returned to whatever she'd been doing. Aro turned to the mirror and sighed. She didn't recognize the young woman looking back at her. Even with the bruises. She hated to admit the dress looked pretty enough. The white shirt showed above the bodice and in back. She ran her fingers through her hair and cursed. Looking pretty for Roan was the last thing she needed, or wanted, to do.

  When she came out, Roan had left again. She glared at the door and borrowed one of his books to read in bed.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  The book wasn't interesting, so she tried another. She read for a while and began drumming her fingers on its cover. Wiping her brow, she threw off the blankets. The dress felt too tight. Getting up, she put the book back and paced, shaking out her fidgety hands.

  Sudden hot and cold flashes left her sweating and pacing more quickly. She tried to sit for a while but soon found her legs bouncing restlessly. Standing again, a wave of dizziness washed over her, followed by a sense of nausea.

  Kei's growing worry didn't help. "I'm fine, I'm fine," she whispered to him and rubbed her forehead. "Wither me, now I'm talking to myself."

  Wincing in discomfort, she tried to remember what she'd eaten for lunch. Maybe the smoked fish had been bad? She hadn't felt so awful since the last time she'd eaten bad food. Lying down on the cool floor helped a little, until staying still set her twitching and she got up again.

  The dress was too heavy, too hot, too tight. It didn't matter which way she bent her arms, she couldn't reach where Aya had tied it.

  Opening the door, she peeked out into the hall. Lamps hung at intervals and showed it much longer than she'd have thought. She saw a door across from where she stood, and many more, indicating a number of small rooms. Did Roan's men sleep here? Wherever here was.

  The boy who'd brought her lunch sat leaning against a wall and he scrambled to his feet when he saw her.

  She turned and pointed at her back. "Can you come undo this? I can't reach it."

  Eyes wide, he shook his head vehemently.

  Another hot flash washed over her, and she swiped at her forehead, leaning against the doorframe. "I don't feel well and would really like to take it off. Is Aya here?" The boy shook his head again. "Is Roan?" Another head shake. She closed her eyes and bit back a curse. "Can you just undo the knot? I can do the rest."

  The boy bolted down the hall, and she did curse. Closing the door, she rested her head against it for a moment. Who invented such horrible clothing?

  She paced again, wringing her now tingling hands. Twice
she stumbled to the bathroom to be sick. The second time, she debated just staying in there. With only one light, it wasn't nearly as bright, and the floor felt so cool against her face.

  Roan found her there, curled up and shaking on the floor.

  As he picked her up, she weakly hit his chest. "I can walk."

  "I sincerely doubt that," he muttered. "How long have you been like this?"

  "After lunch. I think I ate something bad."

  "No, Arowyn. It wasn't something you ate."

  It took her a moment to understand what he implied. "Rot," she muttered as he set her down on the bed.

  "How do you feel?" Sitting beside her, he set a hand on her forehead.

  She tried to push it away. "I'm hot…and cold. The dress is too tight, and I can't get the rotting thing off."

  "Roll over."

  She did, letting out a sigh of relief as he undid the lacings.

  "I'm sorry you didn't like the dress," he said quietly. "Most girls would."

  "I'm not most girls."

  "So I see. There, undone and I've loosened the laces." He stood. "Do you want wine? Water?"

  "Not yet." Sitting up, she let out a big sigh of relief and stumbled to her feet.

  "You should stay…"

  His words trailed off as she shimmed out of the dress, letting it puddle on the floor. Dropping back to the bed, she bent, trying to pick it up.

  "I'll…I'll get it. Rot, girl. You could have warned me."

  She barely had the energy to be amused as she fell back into the pillows and closed her eyes. "Oh, please. It's not like you haven't seen it before. I'm not naked."

  He sighed, deeply.

  A cold flash hit and she shivered. He drew a blanket over her.

  "How long does this last?"

  He didn't answer and she opened her eyes again. "Roan?"

  "Until you take more."

  She stared up at him, not understanding.

  "You have to keep taking riath. Less each time, and you'll try to go longer between each dose, until eventually you can stop."

  "No."

  "That's how it's done. You can't just stop. Your body won't handle it."

  "No," she insisted more firmly.

  Once again he sat down beside her, this time all gentleness gone. "We made an agreement that I would get you through this."

  "I didn't know–"

  "And I have spent the last two days trying to purchase some," he interrupted. His voice rose, growing hard and making it clear no was not an answer he would accept. "It wasn't easy, and it wasn't cheap. So you will take it, and you will get better. Understood?"

  Clenching her jaw, she shook her head. "I promised," she said quietly. "I promised I wouldn't."

  His eyes narrowed. "Who did you promise?"

  Her mouth opened and closed, and for a moment, confusion left her without words. It hadn't been real, had it?

  "Who, Arowyn?"

  Her jaw trembled slightly and she turned her head away. "Never mind. I…it was just a dream."

  He stood. "I'll get it ready, then."

  Pressing her palm against her forehead, she squeezed her eyes closed, trying to fight the nausea and growing tremors so she could think. Prince was in Rivenward, beyond the wardwall. There was no way she could have spoken to him.

  "It must have been a dream," she whispered. Understanding that hurt more than anything else.

  As Roan lifted the cup of drugged wine to her lips, worry made her hesitate, and her eyes met his. What if he'd gotten the dose wrong and she never woke up?

  "Drink," he insisted.

  Pulling her eyes away from his cold regard, she did as he asked. Kei's comfort surrounded her, drowning out her worry. Would she sleep for long this time? As the rainbows danced on the edges of her vision, she wondered what Kei felt when she slept.

  Warmth and calm spread through her. The nausea faded and her shaking stopped.

  "Sweet dreams, Arowyn."

  A little spark of hope entered her heart. Perhaps she'd dream of her prince again.

  Chapter 19

  Reliving the Past

  Fluttering thoughts and confusion mixed within her mind. The rainbows faded away and a great sadness replaced them. Part of her knew this wasn't a good thing. The rest mournfully missed the happy memories, and disappointment filled her. She'd had no special dreams of Prince.

  She'd tried, many times. When nothing came but memories of him, she tried to dream of Kei with no success. Thoughts of why she hadn't been able to came and went. Perhaps she hadn't been given enough riath, or maybe they hadn't been sleeping.

  Muted sounds tickled her ears, but she didn't struggle to wake up like the last time. She let her mind sort itself out slowly and waited for feeling to come back to her body.

  Though the bed curtain had been pulled out, it didn't do much to muffle the sound of someone coming in. Her attention wandered, assuming it to be Roan until it finally registered a quiet conversation took place.

  Tilting her head, she focused on listening.

  "And Vesrin?" She recognized Roan's voice and fought the urge to spring out of bed at the topic of conversation.

  "He's still in the city," another man said. "Haven't been able to find out where or what he's up to. Nothing on the other Elf either. As far as we've been able to tell, no Elves have left the city in the last few days. A couple have come in, like I said before."

  "I want to know immediately of anything concerning Vesrin. He knows I have her, and given the situation I don't see him sitting idly by."

  "We'll hear something eventually. Coins talk." The other man paused. "There's some muttering among the other Elves. They know something's happened."

  "As long as they don't side with him, they shouldn't be an issue."

  "True enough. Will they? Should I put more men on them?"

  "Not unless you hear something. We're spread thin enough as it is."

  "Very well, Captain. If you don't mind me saying, this is an awful lot of trouble for one girl."

  "She's not just some girl, Jalan."

  The other man huffed his agreement. "Elves don't abduct and torture random human women."

  "The Elves want her. The Were are searching for her. I have her. I need your men to be on their guard."

  The other man agreed, and the topic changed to boring details of wages and shifts. Aro stared up at the bed canopy. She didn't know much about power and politics but now understood why Roan helped her. She was something others wanted. A whispered curse slipped through her lips. She'd agreed to stay with him, and he effectively had control over her, which gave him the power.

  Right now, there wasn't a lot she could do about it. It would, however, be wise for her to remember not to trust the pirate. Clearly he had more than her best interests at heart. He would use her if he could, and she didn't doubt the possibility that she wouldn't even realize it. Likely he'd been playing this game longer than she'd been alive.

  By the time she sorted out her thoughts, the other man left and the occasional sound of shuffling papers was all she heard.

  The lamp on Roan's bedside table had been left on low, allowing her to see the robe draped across the end of the bed when she sat up. A quiet amused noise sputtered out of her lips. He slept naked, and gave her almost nothing to wear to bed, yet still made a fuss otherwise?

  She awkwardly pulled on the robe while sitting before pulling the curtain back. Getting up slowly, she wobbled on her feet as the room spun. Fighting for balance, she stumbled to the side to grab the bedpost for support.

  "Good afternoon."

  She mumbled a response, trying to keep to her feet. When the room stopped spinning, she put all her attention on not falling on her face as she headed to the bathroom. Quick steps left her banging into the door, and uncoordinated hands struggled with the latch as she cursed under her breath.

  Roan didn't offer any assistance.

  After using the privy and washing up quickly, she felt a bit more like herself. Walking back
into the room and heading for his desk, she stopped suddenly. Her normal chair wasn't there. For a long moment she just stared at the empty spot. Her mind certainly wasn't functioning properly yet.

  "Have a seat."

  She turned her attention to Roan, blinking at him blankly until he gestured to the chairs in the sitting area to her right. Taking slow steps, she eyed the arrangement of chairs around a low table. Sit facing him or the door? The door, of course. Bo had taught her that. Bo…

  Her feet stopped moving as her throat constricted with a held in sob. Tears burned her eyes, but she blinked them away quickly, and sniffed. Lifting her chin, she moved toward her chosen seat.

  "Not there," Roan ordered quietly. "I want to see more than the back of your head."

  Grimacing, she took the closest chair facing him and gratefully collapsed into it. Pulling the robe tightly around her, she tucked her feet up and covered them as well. Why didn't he have a rotting fireplace?

  "Such manners. Put your feet down, Arowyn."

  She'd had enough of his cold demeanor. Glaring at him, she didn't move. "They're cold. This whole room is freezing. I don't have any clothes and–"

  "Is something wrong?"

  Her brows drew together and she frowned in confusion.

  "Your eyes are red," he explained. "Is something wrong?"

  Pressing her lips together tightly, she shook her head and looked away.

  "Don't lie to me. When I ask you a question, you are to answer, and to give me the truth."

  Rot.

  "Everything is wrong," she finally answered quietly. "Where would you like me to start?" The last she said flippantly and didn't expect him to reply.

  "At the beginning." His immediate answer both surprised and dismayed her. "First though, you will eat and get dressed."

  Eating she didn't have a problem with, the dress…yes she did. "I don't like dresses. I can't–"

  "Fight. I know. We've had this discussion."

  "Stop interrupting me!"

  "Stop repeating yourself."