Of Blood and Deceit

by Rachel A. Collett

  The prince saved me—a debt that, in Eira, demanded repayment. Confused and appalled, I gazed up to see a neck thick with strained muscles. Of their own accord, my traitorous fingers pressed against a stubble coated face and carved jawline…

  He moved them from his skin, holding them in a tight grasp as he scanned the darkened forest.

  I opened my mouth to object, but the words left when he pulled me closer. Crushed to him, Castiel’s husky voice sent a tremor down my body. “I will not hurt you, Ilianna. I will never hurt you.”

  He ran with me in his arms. The jostled movement kept the pain in my side fresh and prevented me from fully passing into oblivion. I guessed I should be grateful instead of annoyed as I was, but it was all too much. As I fought for consciousness, my mind stewed in a messy mixture of apprehension and annoyance.

  Where was he taking me? Would he dump my body somewhere remote? Perhaps then I wouldn’t be obliged to him. But that wouldn’t make sense, seeing as how we were already in a forest. Would he take me back to his prisons?

  Seconds or hours ticked by, keeping a disjointed rhythm with my heart. Soon, the pain from my injuries dulled.

  “You should stay awake, Princess.” His deep voice stunned me back into a throbbing awareness. I strained to open my eyes, but they did not answer my command. Instead I hummed a response that sounded a lot more like a groan to my ears. It was no use.

  Before I slipped into darkness, his voice fought to awaken me again.

  “You’re going to be alright,” he said. “I promise.”

  But it didn’t sound as if he believed his own words.

  My eyelids were heavy and swollen, my limbs like lead—frozen in a body that buzzed in numbing pain. Whispered voices pulled my attention, and I stopped trying to move at all and focused on their words.

  An unfamiliar man spoke low. “Are you sure you heard it right? Her own uncle?”

  No response.

  “You should have let them kill her.”

  Castiel let out an annoyed breath. “They weren’t there to kill her.”

  “Then why didn’t you let them take her? It could have solved the problem.”

  “Without knowing the source of the problem? Brother, that sounds so unlike you.”

  Brother? My heart responded to the connection my mind finally made as both king and prince of Anolyn continued their conversation.

  “And this is so unlike you.”

  A pause and then Castiel spoke, his oddly familiar voice sending a strange sensation through my body. “It—it didn’t seem right. Six against a single girl?”

  A scoff sounded from the king.

  Castiel continued. “And we would have learned nothing more than what was already known.”

  “That Johan is a madman?”

  “Not helpful.”

  “I will send for Melia’s mother. Maybe she can solve this riddle.”

  “And upset the captain of the guard? I wouldn’t if I were you. Not until it’s absolutely necessary.”

  “Very well.” Soft steps moved to the other side of the room. “If anything happens while she’s here, the blame will be on you. I hope I don’t have to order you to death.”

  “Go to hell… and get out of my room.”

  A laugh sounded, then the door opened and closed.

  Silence enveloped the space. Exhaustion pulled at me once again, but curiosity battled the sensation. Concentrating hard, I forced one eye open. Through the watery blur, a face stared back at me, his gaze stoic, his features shadowed by low light.

  He reached out, but then drew back his hand.

  “Why didn’t you let them take me?” The words were barely more than a whisper, but I knew he understood.

  His eyes bore into mine. “Sleep.”

  With a sigh, I listened, but sleep did not come easy.

  Prince Castiel hadn’t saved me from death.

  My traitorous thinking delved much deeper into the problem than I wanted. Lucan would have taken me back to Johan—a fate worse than a painful death. Furthermore, Castiel had spared my life in the prison upon first arrival. The brothers were within their rights to kill me. I was their enemy and had trespassed upon their land, yet the prince saw fit to watch over me, giving me more food than a normal prisoner and keeping my conditions more sanitary than that of my inmates—or so he claimed. The combination of all instances and the obligatory life payment was affixed. My existence was forfeit—not that I would tell him. If he didn’t recognize the significance of what he had done, why should I?

  But still the thoughts nagged at my very soul.

  Nightmares overwhelmed my mind, never allowing me to rest. Hallucinations from an infectious fever plagued me with a distinct feeling of being crushed. I struggled against an unseen energy I couldn’t name as I drowned in a pool of my own sweat. In my visions, a pair of red eyes watched me as I writhed in pain.

  Was I dying? Was evil there to claim my tortured soul? I didn’t know. But when I woke again, the red eyes and the prince were gone, replaced by a resting Sameen. A mixture of relief and some unknown emotion rushed through me, pumping blood through my weakened limbs. An unstoppable groan bubbled from my lips before I could silence it. Sameen sat up, jarred from her slumber.

  She placed the back of her hand to my forehead, then probed the bruises on my face. She stood, moving to the door, and whispered something through the crack. I made to sit up, but pain laced the attempt.

  “Hold still,” Sameen said as she returned to my bedside. “I’ve sent for the healer.”

  I licked dry lips. My voice croaked. “It’s not nec—”

  “Necessary? You wouldn’t say that if you saw your own reflection.”

  I closed my eyes, almost embarrassed by the pronouncement. I rotated my head side to side to soothe the stiffness in my neck. “I’ve had worse.” I was sure of it.

  Sameen’s voice was thick with annoyance. “I don’t doubt that.” Her shrewd eyes watched me.

  Lucan hadn’t meant to kill me. Compared to others my uncle employed, he could be considered nice. I almost laughed at my ill-humor, but then my breath caught in my throat. Anxiety eddied in my chest.

  Lucan.

  Had he seen the magic I had used to fight? Would he tell my uncle? I had always been so careful in the past. My fingers nervously clenched at something other than the clothes I had been wearing.

  I peered down to see a fresh nightgown. I had been cleaned, my hair brushed and braided by my temporary lady’s maid. Unease ripped through me. How could she take care of me after what I did to her? Did the prince not know about her unwilling assistance? If she had somehow escaped her punishment, my heart was glad for it and I would keep that secret. It was the least I could do after my abuse of her.

  Sameen moved about the room, intermittently rearranging a nearly empty space between pacing. It wasn’t the room they had taken me to before. This one was plain of any decoration, with only a bed, nightstand, and a rather uncomfortable looking wooden chair. A window gazed out into a new morning, still lowly lit by an unhurried sunrise.

  Was she nervous I would tell? Tension was thick upon her delicate brow.

  “I won’t tell anyone you helped me.”

  She froze, pinning me with her sharp eyes.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You have my silence. I won’t tell anyone you helped me…to escape,” I clarified when she only continued to stare.

  “Your silence is unnecessary. I went and told the prince of your tricks the moment I realized what you had done to me. You won’t need to confess what I’ve already declared.”

  “I’m…” But words left me. Was I sorry? Was that the feeling that settled like a boulder in the pit of my stomach?

  Almost on instinct, my eyes searched her for some kind of injury, but whatever she had endured because of my treachery, they were careful not to let it show.

  A knock at the door brought me out of my thoughts. An old man with white, balding hair and kind eyes opened without waiti
ng to be permitted.

  “Is she awake?” he asked, and Sameen nodded.

  She stood back, gesturing with her hand. “Lady Anna, this is Gedeon. He is the kingdom’s healer and—”

  “I do not desire a healer,” I said, pinning him with a direct glare.

  His brows lifted as if to say he cared very little for my desires. “I guess that makes sense, now that I’ve already healed the worst of your injuries.”

  “I—”

  My fingers flew to the stab in my stomach, but there was no pain and no indention. Nothing. My face flushed red.

  “You’re welcome.” He sat in the vacated chair and took my hand. I yanked my fingers from his grasp. His hand froze mid-air as he considered me.

  “I was told you’d be difficult. You should know that my king and his brother the prince have requested that I see to your instant care.” He waited for me to answer, but when I didn’t, he tipped his head to the side. A curious expression wrinkled his already wizened face. “I healed the more serious of your wounds last night while you slept but waited until you were awake for the rest.”

  My swollen eyes narrowed. “Why?”

  He shrugged. “I’m getting on in years, tired from my many travels. A simple healing is harder now than it once was. Some of your scars are too old and too deep for me to completely erase. I have potions and ointments that will heal your lesser injuries, letting me take care of the others without becoming too weak.”

  “Then save your energy, old man. Leave me.”

  “I have never disobeyed my king, and I never will. I will see to your injuries with your acceptance, or I will sedate you and see to it while you sleep.”

  The muscles in my neck twitched, my heart panicked. Slowly, I reached out my hand, allowing him to take it. I looked away and braced against the desire to bolt. Where would I go anyway?

  “I had a feeling you were a smart girl. You have the most remarkable eyes I’ve ever seen.”

  I swallowed, not knowing what to say.

  He chuckled. “Age?”

  I jerked back. “What?”

  “Maybe not as smart as I thought. How old are you, child?”

  Heat infused my checks. “Seventeen.”

  “So young,” he said beneath his breath.

  “I come of age in three months.”

  “You don’t say.” A smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “In our country, when our children come of age—”

  “What makes you think I’m not from here?” I asked, interrupting. According to Castiel, I had been given a false identity for my protection. Had he gone back against his word? I knew better than to trust the word of the prince of Anolyn.

  The doctor pushed up my sleeve to expose a blood-stained gauze wrap around my forearm. He pulled a pair of scissors from his bag and removed the old bandage, giving Sameen the scraps and instrument. A cut ran from my shoulder to just above the inside of my elbow. He inspected the wound, not meeting my eyes.

  “You’re too pale to be from our country, and your accent’s not right.” He lifted the other sleeve, examining the injuries there. “Besides, I make it a point to introduce myself in each town I visit, seeing to the needs of their people whenever I can. You…” He cupped my chin to examine my eyes. I flinched, just barely managing to keep my seat. “I would have remembered.” His gaze traveled to the burn that scarred my neck.

  I jerked back. “That one you don’t heal.”

  The King

  “The burn?”

  I only nodded.

  His eyes consumed mine. Even though the color was muted by a milky film that came with living hundreds of years, intelligence and even cunning lurked behind those simple brown eyes. “Why would you want to keep such a horrible mark? The damage you sustained is still relatively new, but it will leave a scar I cannot remove if you do not let me heal it completely.”

  One side of my mouth tipped up. “Not all scars are bad.” Let him think what he wanted. I forced myself to turn away.

  He cleared his throat and continued his ministrations. “As I said, when our youth come of age, it’s a grand event that includes a week-long celebration and an introduction to the king himself. It signifies their entrance into society, when they must choose what they will become.”

  My knowledge of Anolyn was very little, but what I did know was far different from what he described. Heat infused my tone. “Your children work as slaves, forced to do jobs given to them based on need.”

  The doctor smirked. “So you no longer deny you’re not from here?” I looked away, refusing the information. “Well, whoever taught you that lesson was wrong. Members of our kingdom choose their own lifestyle, but it’s based on the needs of their community or country. If they cannot choose one, it’s chosen for them. They are not slaves, but we do expect our people to work. To contribute.”

  I tried to roll my eyes, but they were still swollen, which diluted the effect.

  He peered at Sameen. “It was late when I attended her. I felt the injury to her stomach and several lesser injuries that I will see to now, but I sense there are others—dated damage sustained prior to arriving here. How far do they extend?”

  I heaved a sigh. “My arms and face will be sufficient en—”

  “They’re everywhere,” Sameen said.

  I gave her a baleful glare, but she ignored me. She lifted his bag from the ground. “I have a feeling you’ll go through all of your product with this one.”

  “I won’t be able to heal all scars and older wounds, but I’ll see what I can do for the most recent ones,” he said as he rummaged through the contents. “Sameen, help her with her nightdress. Lady Anna, would you please lay on your stomach?”

  He stood and moved to the window. Keeping his back turned, he allowed me privacy to undress. Sameen placed the scissors she still carried on the nightstand, then tugged off my nightshirt. While I had grown accustomed to Pala taking care of me, it grated on my nerves being so exposed.

  Humiliated, I did as I was told, grateful when Sameen quickly covered my lower half with a thin sheet. “She’s ready, Gedeon.”

  “Wonderful. Lady Anna, I will try to be done…”

  His voice trailed off as he neared.

  I closed my eyes, ignoring the way my skin flushed in embarrassment. I knew what he saw. What they both saw. But what I didn’t know was how I would react when his fingers lightly grazed my skin. Instincts flared. I flew from the bed, at the same time grabbing my cover.

  Sameen let out a yelp when I swiped the scissors from the nightstand, knocking it over. My knees gave way and I tumbled to the floor, my legs grudging to respond the commands given them.

  I cursed a foul oath, holding the scissors as a weapon.

  The doctor’s voice was thick in shock. “What on earth—”

  “Stay away from me,” I said through clenched teeth. I jabbed the scissors his direction, knowing the sheet I held barely covered the front of me.

  I inched up the wall.

  “Where are my clothes?” I asked through clenched teeth.

  “Lady Anna, you are badly injured. Your body needs to rest,” he said, unwilling to answer my question.

  Sameen’s eyes, meanwhile, flashed to a folded pile next to the window.

  My legs trembled when I dashed for the bundle, but before I could manage two steps, the door busted open behind me. I inhaled sharply when arms clamped down on mine. Large hands shook the weapon from my fingers and the scissors clattered to the ground.

  Red infused my already clouded vision. I bucked and screamed.

  Something stung the side of my neck, and I gasped. A second later, the pain released. From the corner of my eye the healer ducked behind the protection of Reese’s larger form, a small, dart-like object clutched in his hands.

  I twisted hard and fell backward, but Reese caught me and gathered me again to his chest. I beat my fists against his shoulders until my eyes rolled back in my head. A curse fizzled upon my still-swollen lips.

  When I
woke, my eyes opened freely to the sun streaming from a window. I reached to stretch fingers to golden flecks dancing in the light. No pain laced my movements. Birds chirped, their song a soothing balm.

  I rubbed that place on my neck where Gedeon had injected whatever it was that knocked me out, but nothing remained except the memory.

  I was back in my original room. Sameen sat knitting in a rocking chair that wasn’t there the first time, and up against the door stood Reese. His eyes already watched me as I examined my surroundings.

  He leaned from the door and commanded the attention of someone just outside. “Warn the prince: she’s awake.”

  Did my face have to keep turning color as it did? I cleared my throat, but nothing came out. What was there to say?

  “She will need to be dressed. Immediately,” Reese said.

  “Very well,” said Sameen, smoothing her hair twisted tightly at the back of her neck. “I will as soon as you step out.”

  He hesitated. A question lingered in his eyes.

  I slowly sat up, waiting for the painful rush of blood from my head, but it never came. Twisting, I tried the muscles in my neck. They were sound. “I won’t harm Sameen,” I said, my voice a croaking embarrassment.

  She pished and moved to my bedside. “Of course she won’t.”

  Reese’s brows ticked high upon his forehead as if to say otherwise. Heat flooded my cheeks.

  “Now shoo,” she commanded.

  When he had left, she held out a light blue day dress. It draped delicately to the ground in gossamer and lace.

  I looked it over. “That color is a little too nice for a dirty prisoner, don’t you think?”

  “You’re not a dirty prisoner any more. I’ll expect you to act like a lady, not some wild animal from here on out. Do you understand?”

  I hesitated before nodding. Could I do that? I could see myself behaving for Sameen, if only for Sameen.

  I stood, my mind still reeling over the work of the healer. I felt amazing, the best I had felt in months, perhaps years, even. Sameen tugged and cinched the dress in all the right places, lacing it up the back. “Gedeon is over two-hundred-fifty years old, and I think you nearly gave him a heart attack. Can you tell me why you reacted the way you did?”