by Frost Kay
She clenched the sheet tighter in her fist when he tugged on it.
“You need to let go, so I can wrap it around you.”
She still didn’t let go. It was like her fingers wouldn’t unclench.
“I promise I’ll not look,” he said in a gentle voice. “On the count of three, let go. One, two, three…”
Sage let go, shaking. She hissed as he wrapped the fabric around her sensitive skin, and tucked the ends around her, still holding her against him.
“Brace yourself, I’m going to lift you.”
Her nostrils flared as the pain stabbed at her from all over when he swept her off her feet and into his arms. Her arms trembled as she wrapped them around his neck. Everything hurt, and all she wanted to do was go to sleep again.
“Close your eyes. The light will be too much for you.”
She took one last glance at the space she had expected to be her coffin, and then peeked up at the man studying her. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. I’ll never be your hero. Now, close your eyes.”
His words didn’t make any sense to her, but she obeyed as he began moving toward the door. “Open the door.”
She hid her face in his shirt when the light draped over them like a long-lost friend. She wished she could open her eyes.
“You’ll be able to see soon,” he murmured over her head. “But you’ve been in the dark too long. Your eyes need time to adjust.” He shifted her in his arms, but at her sharp breath, he paused. “What?”
She shook her head, his linen shirt caressing her forehead. “It hurts.”
“I know. Soon the pain will all be over.”
He picked up his pace and the bright light soon faded; even the air cooled.
A creak of leather. “My lord,” a masculine voice said then.
“Fetch broth, Maeve, and have Ezra create a draught.”
“It will be done.”
Silence. Not fading footsteps. Had the other man left?
A door opened and slammed shut. The air heated, and it was like she was breathing steam.
“Everyone out. When Maeve arrives, send her in. Also, close the curtains.”
There were more people in the room? She strained to hear any sound, but nothing. Damn Scythians and their sneaking.
“I’m going to set you down. Don’t open your eyes.”
He placed her on something soft. She sank into it, reveling in the luxury. She heard the rustling of cloth just before large arms plucked her from her new bed. She growled.
“Hush. I’ll let you sleep soon enough.”
The sounds of lapping water reached her ears, and then they were descending. Warm water soaked her feet, shocking her, and her eyes flew open. It was dark enough that she could just make out a large room with a massive hexagonal pool in its center. And they were in the pool. “Wh-what are you doing?” she squeaked.
“Getting you cleaned up.”
“No!”
She blinked up at him. His expression was firm, with a stubborn set to his jaw; apparently, this was happening with or without her consent. His gaze roved her face.
“I’ll not ravish you in the pool, if that’s what you’re worried about. But you need to be cared for.”
A blush heated her face. “It’s my body.”
“True, but it won’t be your body if you’re dead.”
He had a point. “Isn’t there a woman who can help?”
“No. I’ve helped many women birth babes. The female form is nothing new to me. Your modesty has no place here.” He descended further, submerging her body in the warm water.
Her jaw clenched when he sat on a submerged pool ledge and pulled her body into his lap, tugging the sheet from her.
He hissed, and Sage squinted down at her bare body. She couldn’t see much, but what little she could make out looked like a collage of colors accented by silvery slashes, but that wasn’t the worst of it. It was like her skin was too big for her body. She looked like a monster.
“You’re not a monster.”
She’d said that out loud? Fatigue hit her hard, and she collapsed against the warlord’s bare chest.
“That’s it. Just relax,” he crooned. “I’ll take care of you.”
A warm, sudsy cloth started on her hand and carefully moved up her arm. Sage kept her eyes closed, blocked out everything happening to her, and focused only on the warm water and the comfort it gave her. She checked in when he washed her stomach and the tops of her thighs, but his hands never strayed to her important bits.
His hands moved to her head, and she hummed, soothed by the soft touch of his hands through her hair. His hands stilled.
“You like that?”
“Mmmhmm… My mum used to wash my hair and brush it for me. I love it,” she said, not knowing why she gave a stranger that information.
“I’ll remember that,” he rumbled and began washing her hair again.
A few times she hissed as he untangled her matted locks, but for the most part, it was the best thing that had happened to her in a very long time. It was the last good memory she’d have before she died. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” he hummed.
She let herself drift and was almost asleep when a knock jarred her.
“Enter,” the warlord called.
“I have everything prepared, my lord,” a female voice answered.
Sage pressed against his body, both embarrassed and scared that she still couldn’t see the woman speaking. The warlord hugged her closer and ran a hand down her wet hair. “I’ll bring her out.”
A door clicked softly shut, and the warlord turned toward her. She could feel him regarding her. “Can you wrap your arms around my neck?”
She shook her head, all strength gone.
“No matter,” he said and he picked her up, sloshing water around, and ascended from the pool. He placed her feet on the floor and wrapped his arm around her back. A fuzzy towel rubbed against her head and then gingerly wrapped around her body. Once again, she was swept into his arms and moved into another dark room where she was then placed on the softest bed she’d ever felt.
“I can take care of it from here, my lord,” the female voice offered.
“No, Maeve.”
“Do you think that’s wise? You’re on edge.”
“It’s not your concern,” the warlord responded and ran a hand over her head again. “I’m going to remove your towel, Sage, but I’ll cover you with blankets.”
She nodded, not caring as long as she didn’t have to move from this spot. The wet towel disappeared, and warm blankets were smoothed over her. She sighed and snuggled in deeper.
“You don’t get to sleep yet. You have to eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You’ll eat.” His tone brooked no argument. His palm cradled her head, and something was placed at her lips. “Drink.”
She opened her mouth, and something warm and savory met her taste buds. She gulped down more and cried out when it was taken away.
“You have to drink slower, or you’ll get sick.”
Sage nodded. She’d have agreed to anything as long as he brought back the delicious broth. She forced herself to take small sips, but before long, she turned her head away. “No more.”
“You hardly ate anything. Just a little more,” he coaxed.
“No,” she moaned, her stomach cramping painfully.
“Let her be,” the female said gently. “It’ll take time.”
A hand smoothed the damp hair from her face. “Sleep sweet, wild one.”
She sighed and did so.
***
She shivered, hearing voices while heat licked inside her veins.
“She needs more,” a dangerous voice snarled.
“If I give her more, she’ll change,” a soft male voice answered. “Do you think she’ll follow you meekly when she doesn’t even recognize the girl in the mirror? She’s just a breeder anyway.”
“She’s mine. I’ll do w
ith her what I want.”
Why was it so hot?
“But—”
“I didn’t bring you here to challenge me. Obey me or suffer the consequences. You know what’s on the—”
Stars above, it was bloody hot. She was burning. She whimpered and rubbed at her skin.
A cool hand touched her brow. “Sage?” a deep voice crooned.
“Burning,” she whispered.
“I’ve got you,” the voice whispered.
Something pressed to her cracked lips, and blessedly cool liquid coated her tongue. Instantly, the burning began to dim, and the darkness sidled closer, like an old friend, an old friend Sage welcomed with open arms.
Chapter Fourteen
Sage
Sage awoke to a pounding in her head. Her limbs felt heavy, and she thought about just going back to sleep when she noticed dull light dancing behind her eyelids. Light? Could she really be seeing light? Or was this another trick of the mind? She bolstered herself and cracked one eye.
It was real.
She lay in a giant room with couches and chairs scattered in cozy nooks. Wanting to see more of the room with its luxurious rug and woven tapestries, she turned her head but immediately regretted it. She brought a shaking hand to her throbbing temple. It was as if there was someone inside her head ringing a gong over and over. Carefully this time, she turned to the right and then froze. A man held her hand, and he was fast asleep in a chair that was far too small for him. It was the warlord. Her eyes ran over his shiny raven hair that had fallen over his face and down his bare chest. Sage blushed and returned her gaze to the hand clutching hers. Maybe if she pulled just right, she could extract her hand. She loosened her grip and tried gently tugging her hand from his.
“What are you doing?”
Startled, she looked up at the man now staring at her. “Moving my hand. It fell asleep.” The lie fell easily from her lips. Thank goodness for quick thinking. He ran his thumb over her wrist and let go, still watching her with his onyx gaze. She wet her lips and asked, “Why are you here?”
“Someone needed to care for you.”
Her brows slashed down. “Why?” What did the warlord want?
“Because you were sick.”
“Because of you,” she whispered.
“I never meant for you to be there. To be locked in the dark.”
She flinched as the memory of blindness slammed into her.
He leaned closer, his hands laced with his elbows on his knees. “I promise.”
She stared at him. Everything told her he was the enemy and a liar, but he couldn’t fake the dark circles rimming his eyes. He certainly had been concerned for her. She decided she believed him, but still didn’t trust him.
“How long have I been out?”
“Fourteen days.”
Panic slammed into her. “I’ve lost fourteen days? Fourteen? How long have I been here?”
“You’ve been in my home for six weeks.”
Unbidden, tears sprang to her eyes. She’d been locked in the dark for twenty-eight days? She blinked repeatedly and turned her stare to the ceiling as the tears dripped down her face.
“I’m so sorry. I came to you as soon as I became aware of what happened. I didn’t order your imprisonment. Someone betrayed me.” His tone took on an edge. “They’ve been dealt with.”
A pool of crimson flashed through her memory. “Like you slayed the monster?”
He paused before answering. “Yes.”
“They killed my friend,” she choked.
“They paid dearly for it.”
Fatigue weighed heavily upon her, and she felt her eyes begin to droop, despite her mind whirling with questions.
“Here…” Something was placed at her lips. “Drink this to gain your strength.”
She obeyed, not even tasting the broth, just sipping until none was left.
“I’ll let you rest.”
Sage turned, putting her back to the warlord.
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t bring Jasmine back,” she whispered.
“No, it doesn’t.” His hand softly brushed her shoulder. “Good night, wild one.”
She ignored his touch and stared vacantly at a covered window. Vaguely, she noted a door closing, but she was leagues away in her mind. Six weeks. She’d been gone for six weeks. What was happening in Aermia? Were her parents okay? What about the alliance between the rebellion and the Crown? Would it still be honored in her absence? What about Tehl?
“What about me?” he asked, sitting on the bed.
Sage smiled, more tears springing to her eyes. For the first time, she could see him. Black hair, sapphire eyes, and broad shoulders.
“You’re here.” Her heart stopped when he smiled at her. It was rare for him to full-on smile; when he did, it was a thing of beauty.
“I never left.” He looked around the room. “It seems you’ve moved up in life.”
She darted a second glance around the room. “It seems I have.”
“The warlord has taken fine care of you.”
She dropped her gaze to the coverlet and traced the pattern. “It seems so. He said it was a mistake. That he didn’t know.”
“Do you believe him?”
“I’m inclined to say no, because of what I’ve been told about him. But he’s different,” she admitted. “I can see, but I’m still blind.”
“Well, remember we judge on actions, not on hearsay. Examine what you understand to be true. Start from the beginning.”
“People have been kidnapped by Scythians. Rhys hurt me.” She shuddered and moved on. “He kidnapped me and abused me more. The warlord killed him. I was thrown into prison. Jasmine died,” she choked out. “I thought I would die. The warlord rescued me. He has taken care of me.”
“Indeed. There might be more beneath the surface than what appears. Could it be that our council has been blind because of prejudice? Possibly. But have you been led to see something that isn’t really there?”
That pierced her. Rafe had lied and lied, and she had gobbled up everything he said. The world wasn’t black and white. She understood that now. Her eyes started to slide shut. “I’m tired.”
“Sleep, love. I’ll watch over you.”
***
The next time she woke, a Scythian woman sat next to the bed, reading a book. Cinnamon eyes met hers over the top of a page. The woman snapped the book shut and raised a brow. “It’s about time you woke. Your stench is enough to make my eyes water.”
“I beg your pardon?” Sage blurted.
“You shouldn’t smell like that.”
The woman pushed from the chair and yanked back her covers. Sage wrapped her hands around her bare body. How long had she been naked? What had happened to her while she slept all that time?
“Stop looking so scandalized. No one’s touched you but the warlord himself.”
Her eyes widened. That didn’t make her feel any better.
The woman rolled her eyes and helped Sage sit up, then stand. “As if he would take advantage of you looking and smelling like you do. Honestly, you Aermians assume everyone wants you.”
Sage blinked and locked her knees when they threatened to buckle. “I meant no offense,” she drew out, feeling off balance.
The woman swiftly lifted Sage into her arms, and strode to another room with a rectangular, steaming pool in the middle. They moved to the edge, and the woman plopped Sage in like she weighed nothing at all. Sage’s bottom rested on a stone ledge, and her fingers weakly grasped the side of the pool. She glanced at the beautiful woman who was watching her like a hawk.
“Don’t drown. I’m not crawling in there to take care of you like the warlord.”
Sage gasped. “He bathed me?”
The woman tsked. “It was nothing untoward, child. You would have died without his care. Do you understand?”
The woman’s rebuke had Sage feeling about a foot tall. She nodded her head.
“Now, don’t l
et go of that edge, girl. I need to grab supplies.”
What happened? She had bathed naked with that man? Her stomach sank. She was an adulteress. Wait, why did that of all things come to her mind? All the slurs which had been thrown her way after she’d escaped from the palace, they now applied.
“You’re not at fault.”
Sage peeked at Tehl lounging by the pool, looking almost as carefree as his brother.
“I know who you are. I know you would never break our marriage vows.”
“But I did…” She blinked at the stone edge, feeling violated. “I bathed with another man.”
“Not of your own choice. You were on the verge of dying.”
“I’m sorry.”
“What was that?” the woman asked as she came bustling back in. Sage glanced to where Tehl had been a moment earlier, only to see the bare stone floor. “Nothing,” she muttered. God, had she lost her mind in that cell? Had she died? Was this even real?
“You’re thinking out loud you know, and this is real. Just wait until I have to untangle those snarls in your mane. Then you’ll know it’s real. Now hold still.”
She submitted to the vigorous scrubbing and ignored the muttering and cursing coming from the woman. And, stars above, she was right. At one point, she may have begged for the woman to simply cut her hair rather than keep yanking on her head so. “We’ll get there,” was all she said.
When she was finally permitted to leave the pool, she was utterly exhausted. The woman dried her and slipped a linen shirt over her head that was much too large, but Sage didn’t care. She was just happy to be wearing a garment. She sat Sage in front of a mirror, and whipped out a pair of scissors from God knows where. She lifted a hand and grabbed the woman’s wrist, meeting her cinnamon gaze in the mirror. “I may have been a bit hasty when speaking about cutting it.”
“I’m only going to trim off the dead.”
Sage eyed her suspiciously but relented. It was hateful, really, to place her in front of a mirror. Her skin was sallow, and the shirt hung off her bony shoulders. She brushed aside the collar and glared at her protruding collarbone. Her gaze travelled to her face. She looked half dead. The black bags underneath her eyes were the most prominent part of her face. When she couldn’t stand to look at herself anymore, she watched the graceful woman behind her. It was obvious that she found taking care of Sage distasteful.