He didn’t even realize he’d fallen asleep until a hand on his shoulder roused him. He blinked open his eyes, and there was Brannal, which of course made Perian start to cry again. Brannal reached right into the bath and scooped Perian out and into his arms. Water went everywhere, but either Molun or Brannal had that covered, and the water flew through the air and flowed back into the bathtub.
Perian was getting Brannal all wet, but he didn’t seem to care about that, either. Perian clung to him, and Molun or Arvus brought a towel and wrapped it around him from behind. It must have been Arvus, because then there was Molun with another cloth for his wrist.
“Let’s get your wrist wrapped again,” he said.
Brannal settled in an armchair by the fire, rearranging Perian as though he weighed nothing so that he was sitting across Brannal’s lap. Perian was swathed in a towel, whichBrannal rearranged to cover a bit more of him. He pressed kisses to Perian’s cheeks and eyelids and forehead, warm against the the tears on Perian’s face.
“It was so horrible,” he whispered to Brannal, like they’d been in the middle of a conversation. “He likes to hurt people. He likes it when they’re scared. It turned him on when he hurt me.”
Perian shivered. Brannal hugged him closer.
“Venoran will not hurt anyone else. He’s been expelled from the Warriors, and the Queen will make a further pronouncement on his punishment in the next few days. He will be held in the dungeon until then.”
Perian sniffed. “Good. That’s good.” He sniffed. “Will I need to talk to the Queen? I’ll do it if it will help.”
“I’ll discuss it with Cormal and Onadal. Is that all right?”
Perian nodded. “Of course. Whatever Misalla needs.”
Brannal kissed his temple.
“Now, let’s see how your wrist is doing,” Brannal said. “I don’t remember you mentioning getting hurt.”
“I forgot,” Perian said with a shrug. “It wasn’t about me.”
They unwrapped his wrist. It still looked pretty swollen, though the coolness of the compress had definitely helped with the pain.
“I can still wiggle my fingers,” Perian said, showing that he could do exactly that. “I don’t think anything’s broken.”
Brannal raised an eyebrow.
“Doesn’t everyone fall out of a tree at some point in childhood?” he asked a little sheepishly.
Brannal huffed a breath. “It looks painful, though.”
“It does kind of hurt,” Perian agreed.
“We’ve got tonic and salve,” Molun said. “We should have offered that to begin with. Don’t know what we were thinking. Sorry, Perian.”
Perian shook his head. He wasn’t sure he’d been ready to deal with his wrist before now. But he duly swallowed a tonic and let Brannal carefully smooth the salve over his arm. He sighed as it took effect.
“That definitely helps. Thank you.”
“Of course.”
Arvus re-wrapped the wrist in a proper bandage this time, which made Perian wince. It felt better when he stopped.
He snuggled back against Brannal, who asked, “How are you feeling now?”
“Sleepy,” Perian answered.
“Want to go to bed?”
Perian nodded. He wasn’t even sure what time it was. He didn’t much care. Brannal rose from the chair, bringing Perian with him as though he weighed nothing, and Perian clutched at him with his good hand. His left, because of course Venoran had hurt his dominant hand. He was sure that was deliberate.
He said goodnight to Molun and Arvus, who bid him a goodnight, too.
“Sorry I was a mess,” he apologized.
