Since returning to Cheylm, she saw the price he paid to be king, husband, and friend to everyone. When he came downstairs, he fretted about leaving Leisha alone. When he sat with her, he felt guilty for neglecting his duties and not being available.
It made no difference to him, of course. He would drive himself to collapse for Leisha, anything to help her, anything to please her. For six years, he risked his life to save hers. Now, everyone needed something from him and the one person he wanted had nothing to offer him.
“Friend, how are you doing?” she asked as she came up behind him.
“She’s fine.” It came out automatically. “Sorry,” he laughed. “I’m all right. Tired, but I’ll get some sleep tonight.”
He looked like hell and had not shaved in days. “Have you eaten? I can go get you something.”
“No, no. I have to eat with her to make sure she finishes what I bring. I’ll find something in a bit.”
“Do you mind if I sit, Zaraki?” He made room for her on the bench. “I’m not going to ask how she is because I know everyone else does it three times a day.”
“I’m not even sure what the right answer is,” he admitted, sounding more unhappy and dejected than he really felt. Things were not as bad as that, but he felt exhausted and peevish.
They sat together in silence for some time while Aniska looked at him thoughtfully. “Do you remember when you came to Ostrava?” she asked finally.
“Barely,” he admitted, curious why she brought it up now.
“You were what? Seven? Eight? I’m probably a year younger than you.” Neither had much of a past before Cezar found them and brought them to Lord Edik’s castle. “I remember when Father left you in the barracks with the rest of us. I remember the little boy, starving and silent, with those huge blue eyes. You didn’t speak to us for three months. I would find you hiding under a bed or in a storeroom, weeping, sobbing. I’d curl up next to you and lay there while you cried out your private grief.”
Her story fascinated him. Zaraki remembered very little from that time. The attack had seared his family’s death into his memories, but his flight to Ostrava, Cezar finding him, the first few months there, those memories had always remained indistinct and murky.
“Do you remember the time Father whipped me for stealing food from the kitchen? It was the first, and only, time I got caught. I was sitting on the wall crying when you found me. You put your arm around me and started talking. I’d never even heard your voice. Months of silence and you just started pouring out your story. You talked like you were earning a coin for each word.” She laughed. “You talked about your mother, the songs she sang you, the way your brother would chase you, how high it was riding on your father’s shoulders. I remember all the stories, I think.”
Aniska looked at the window, her gaze growing distant for a moment. “And when you stopped talking, I told you about what my father did to me. I had never told anyone before and I’ve still never told another soul. You’re the only person who knows why I ran away from home.”
She shook off the memory. “Zaraki, my point in all this is, don’t despair. Sometimes trauma creates a dam in us and all our fear and grief and sadness have to build up behind it before it bursts. Just like you, and me, she needs time for it to break. You’re driving yourself mad trying to fix something only she can resolve.”
Shoulders slumped, he sighed. “I feel so selfish saying it, but I just want her to come back to me, Ani.”
“Stop thinking she’s not going to. Give her time. We all have this image of her, Leisha Tahaerin, the invincible Queen, who forces men to their knees, kills with her mind and burns traitors at the stake. But don’t forget, behind the mask she wears as queen, there’s still a woman.”
Zaraki gave her a tired, lopsided grin. “You’re awfully smart, you know?”
“If you ruffle my hair or say I’m cute as a button, I’ll punch you in the ribs, just like Fellnin used to.”
He made a face, feigning anger, and twisted away from her. “You know better than to say that name around me. My side still aches when it gets cold, after the thrashing he gave me.”
Cutting her eyes over, Aniska asked, “Do you maybe want to go kill Lukas? It might make you feel better,” she wheedled, sounding like one child trying to tempt another into stealing a cookie.
“Soon.” He laughed, thinking Lukas should count every day he was alive as a blessing. When he and Ani went to take care of them, the two men would regret ever hearing Leisha’s name. “Thank you. Thank you for saving her. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner. I’ve been so preoccupied. Which is no excuse.”
“Thank you for trusting me to do it. I’m sorry for the harsh words.”
“You don’t owe me any apologies. I lose my mind when it comes to her. You were the only one who could have done it, and I’m forever in your debt.”
Aniska stood up and offered him her hand. Pulling him up to his feet, she hugged him. “Come on, friend. You’re going to have a glass of wine with me and then you’re going eat and go to bed. I know you’ll be up with her nightmares, so let’s get a head start on some sleep.”
***
The next morning, servants brought food and drink and everyone found places around the table in the library. Andelko sighed, seeing the empty chair and wishing Leisha would come down. Selfish, he thought, but it had been a month and he needed some guidance. The four of them kept things in working order, but like now, things arose she needed to weigh in on.
“How is she today?” he began without preamble.
Zaraki shrugged, feeling tired and stretched too thin. “She’s— I’m not sure. She sleeps a lot, still.”
“How would you feel about prodding her a bit? Maybe get her to start thinking about coming down? It’s just there are things I think we need her for. Things that warrant a monarch’s touch. Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”
Zaraki laughed. “I’m not offended, but I don’t know if she’s ready. She’s beset with fears of Lukas taking her again. And she haunted by nightmares—always the same—she said she sees me torturing her.”
They all paled and looked horrified.
“It’s just something is going on,” Andelko said. “I noticed it before the meeting with Lukas, but now it’s worse. Something’s wrong. Something has changed. Has anyone else noticed the levies are coming in slower?”
Symon nodded unhappily. “Yes, there’s a marked decrease in the speed we receive them and quality coming in, and the tone of some of the responses has shifted. They’re becoming more hostile.” That worried him more than anything else did.
“The lords closest by here know what’s going on. They have their spies in the army. I’m afraid of what they’ve heard and what they’re thinking,” Andelko said.
Leaping to his feet, Zaraki looked stricken. “I’m sorry, she needs me. I’m sorry.” He darted out of the room.
***
Leisha looked up from her little book of poems as she felt a tiny flutter in her chest, like a butterfly against glass. No, please, she thought desperately, trying to will it away. Nothing can hurt you here, nothing can harm you.
The flutter grew and a fist gripped her chest, tightening until she could not draw a breath. This kept happening and for no reason she could identify. Stop, stop. You’re fine, you’re safe. It’s not real, she told herself, even as frustrated tears threatened.
Just as suddenly, she felt the fear return. Someone stalked her, tracked her, some nameless, faceless threat loomed, threatening to take her. She felt it reaching up to swallow and drag her back to the place ruled by fear. Drawing her knees to her chest, Leisha tried to ignore it even as she started to tumble over some ledge.
The door opened and Zaraki was there, arresting her fall, saving her from her madness. “I heard you calling me from downstairs,” he explained, and rushed to her. Sitting on the bed, he pulled her onto his lap.
This time, instead of huddling terrified against him, she threw her arms arou
nd his neck and wept, frustrated she could not stop this. Even though the last day or so the fears came less often, she felt overwhelmed and helpless, fearful it would never stop and she would never recover.
It hurt Zaraki so much to see her like this. He would burn down the world to take away her fears. Stroking her hair, he tried to think of anything he could say or do to help her. “Please, please stay with me. I need you. Please, come back.”
Through the haze and fog, Leisha heard his desperation and exhaustion. Like ice water thrown over her, it shattered whatever illusion threatened to take her prisoner. The fear retreated and for the first time in weeks, she felt clear-headed, able to think and reason. She sagged against him, relieved and grateful for his presence.
“I’m sorry.” He looked at her, aghast. “I didn’t mean to say that. I’m tired, that’s all.”
Leisha heard the lie and saw far more than exhaustion on his face when she sat back. For the first time since her rescue, she let herself listen to his thoughts and heard a storm raging in his mind. So afraid of what she would learn, she had locked herself away, refusing to read any thoughts of those around her. She did not want to see if he thought she was mad or unfit to be queen. Instead, she saw his heartbreak.
He had spent weeks in a near panic over her, then another watching her retreat from everyone and everything, including him. Zaraki loved her beyond all reason and needed her. She saw how he suffered, forced to sit by and wait for her rescue. She heard the questions. What happened to her in Embriel? What could he do to help? What would bring her back? And she felt the stabbing guilt and blame he tortured himself with.
Words gathered behind her lips, but she could not bring herself to part with her secrets yet. They terrified her still, and she thought shoving them into dark corners of her mind would hold the terrors she felt at bay.
But, perhaps, she could help ease his mind somewhat. “Zaraki, please don’t feel guilty for what happened. And please don’t feel guilty for leaving me.”
That took him by surprise. “I will, forever,” he said stiffly, refusing to lay down this burden.
“I don’t remember much from that day, but I remember watching the soldiers rush in. Laying on the rug, I remember thinking, I’m going to watch him die.” Feeling her throat tighten, Leisha swallowed hard, trying not to relive the awful moment, the terrible certainty. “I tried to tell you to run, but I couldn’t make the words come out, and when Aniska dragged you away, I was so relieved.”
They sat in silence for a while, each lost in their own memories of that day.
“I wish I could have saved you.” Memories of his family curled around them both.
She leaned her head on his shoulder again. “I know. And you wish you could have saved them, too.”
“Damn your brain,” he whispered.
And I wish I could tell you about the fear and the madness. Leisha could feel his longing as he hoped she would say more, but she could not give him what he wanted. Not yet. Instead, she hoarded her secrets, like coins she would not spend.
Only later did she realize she had not called out to bring him to her.
***
After seeing Zaraki bolt from their meeting to rush to Leisha’s side, Symon felt it past time to stick his nose in their business. Occasionally, she needed a nudge to spur her into action. He waited until the next day, thinking how best to approach this.
Tapping on the door, he opened it without waiting for Leisha to acknowledge him. She sat in bed, and he saw how thin and frail she still appeared. He made a mental note to send more up to tempt her to eat.
As he looked at her, he thought back to the roiling storm of anger and fury she unleashed when her uncle Staval tried to take the throne by killing her and Zaraki. Meting out punishments to all those involved, she had shown no mercy, no hesitation. She even used the situation to her advantage, forcing her fractious nobles to consent to a move that allowed her to marry Zaraki and make him king.
Now, she looked lost and confused.
“Do you mind if I visit with you?” For a second, he thought she might refuse him, but then she gave him a small smile and nodded at the chair next to the bed. “How are you, my dear?” he asked, easing himself into the small seat.
“I don’t really know,” Leisha admitted after a long silence, twisting the blanket in her hands. She wanted to ask what became of mad, broken queens. Were they locked away? Exiled? Worse, what did husbands do with their mad wives?
When he first decided to come see her, Symon thought he might try to tempt her out of the room with work or books, or a walk together around the courtyard as they used to do. Now he could see she was not ready, not yet. She had something on her mind, but as usual, did not know where to start or how to tell him. Symon decided to see if he could help her find her temper again.
“My dear, there’s something we need your help with. Lukas and Lorant. What do you want done with them? You don’t have to make a decision, but they’re just rotting away in your dungeon. Perhaps we could trade them for supplies or favors. Or execute them?”
At the mention of their names, she froze and withdrew. A blank mask fell over her face. “I don’t know. Please, do whatever you think is best.”
Symon blinked in surprise, wondering what had so shaken her confidence in herself. But he would not let this go. “This is above what I can decide. Lukas is a foreign prince. I can’t decide his fate—”
“Symon?” she interrupted. “How do I get over this? How do I move past it?”
Leisha was the daughter he never had. When Andrzej claimed her as a hostage, Symon was likely the only person who mourned her loss. Sitting here in bed, she suddenly looked so young and still so inexperienced in some ways. Her brilliant mind often masked a sheltered and innocent upbringing, unused to hardship or heartbreak.
“My darling child. I remember when you were a little girl. So small and frail-looking, but with strength none of us recognized.” He leaned over and hugged her before saying, “You don’t have to be strong all the time. He needs you. Let him help you.”
For a long while after Symon left, Leisha sat thinking, remembering the day before and Zaraki’s pleading with her to stay with him. Drained and despondent, he needed her. Once again, she thought, I’ve been so blind and reckless with his heart.
Asking him to shoulder all the responsibility of her care while also shutting him out felt monumentally unfair. Telling him her secrets seemed like the smallest kindness, if only to give him the choice of whether to stay with her or not.
For over a week, she had tried to bury what happened in Embriel. In vain, she tried to outrun the mounting evidence that what happened damaged her in some way, tried to stay ahead of the madness so no one would know. All to protect Zaraki and keep the burden of this knowledge from him, instead all she managed to do was hurt him.
For the first time in over a week, Leisha opened the door to their rooms. Outside in the tiny receiving room, Danica sat repairing a tear in one of her gowns.
“Would you help me into some real clothes?” Leisha asked.
***
After helping craft letters to a few recalcitrant lords, Zaraki returned to their rooms and found Leisha out of bed. She sat on a wooden bench in front of the window surrounded by carved roses. The one that looked out over the wall, towards Lida. Symon told him about their talk earlier and he hoped maybe she would open up some now. Silhouetted in the afternoon light, he saw she had invited a servant in to help her dress and braid her hair.
“Ever my shadow?” she asked. It was an old joke between them. Then she grimaced and raised a hand to cover her mouth, and he saw it trembling. “I’m so sorry,” she said.
“For what?”
Not yet. Feeling her unsteady resolve splinter, Leisha knew she did not want to do this, did not want to give a voice to these secrets. They seemed too monstrous, too awful to even acknowledge. Showing them the light of day felt wrong, as if it would make it real. But after all the recent events, they were
also a burden, too heavy to lift on her own.
“Love, if this is about Lukas and Lorant, there’s no rush to decide their fate. If you’re not ready—” Zaraki said, but she cut him off, waving a hand in the air. He moved to sit next to her on the bench and saw her whole body shaking, her eyes filled with tears.
“No, no. This isn’t about that. I want to tell you I’m so sorry I’ve shut you out. I’m sorry I haven’t told you what happened in Embriel. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you all these secrets from the beginning. I didn’t tell anyone and I never wanted to. But I can’t keep holding them. They’re too much.” She sat for a long moment, staring out the window as she warred with whatever terrible secret this was.
“Please?” he asked, desperate for any insight into what drove her away from him. “Tell me?”
Drawing a shaky breath, her shoulders slumped and she relented, finally ready to surrender her story, all of it. “In Lida, when we met Gerolt, when he knew what I was, he let me see what they planned to do with me when they caught me.” She stopped and choked back a sob, her hand going to her mouth again. “Zaraki, I saw it, smelled it. He’s done it before. They’ll make an example of me. He’ll use me, demean me, humiliate me and then torture me. My death will be slow and painful and will take weeks. Because that’s the punishment their god demands for people like me.”
He looked at her in horror before taking her in his arms, trying to soothe away the panicked expression on her face and hating that she carried this for months. But she had not finished confessing yet. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want to burden you. I just wanted to ignore it, pretend it wasn’t real and that it didn’t matter because they weren’t going to catch me. But then, Lukas—”
A tremor passed through her small frame. She doubled over, her face buried in his chest as she wept. “Lukas and Lorant, they knew what Gerolt planned for me. Because he told them. I woke up once and Lorant was talking about it, word for word, what Gerolt would do to me. The abuses he would heap on me, those he reserves for women. And, still. Still, they sold me to him,” she wailed.
As Dragons from Sleep (The Tahaerin Chronicles Book 2) Page 28