"You're awake," she said, eyes darting around; there was no longer a corpse on her floor.But where was the little snake?
"You've been gone since morning."His voice was closer than she expected and calmer than the night before.He must have positioned himself behind the door the moment he heard her footsteps.Survival instinct, even half-dead.
Impressive, kind of.
He was still shirtless, and his bandages looked good with no blood seeping through; that reassured her.
"I had obligations."She didn't move."Are you going to kill me with that, or are we doing this again?"
He paused.
"Where did you go?"
"A celebration on the water.Welcoming my sister into the family."She exhaled slowly through her nose.The room smelled of herbs and dried blood and the particular staleness of a space where someone had been lying very still for a very long time."Your blade is shaking."
It was.
The faintest tremor, almost imperceptible.The stitches she'd put in were holding—she could tell by the fact that he was upright at all—but he had no business standing, let alone threatening people.
"It's not shaking."
"It is."She tilted her chin slightly, careful not to press into the edge."You're using your arms to compensate for your core, which means your wound is pulling.If you hold this position any longer, you'll tear my sutures."
He declined to reply.
Azul closed her eyes for a moment.The room was spinning in a way it hadn't been a minute ago.The fur cloak felt suffocating.Her throat was dry and her heartbeat was doing something strange—not fast, exactly, but loud.Too loud; it made her head hurt.
"Lower the blade," she instructed and was surprised to find her voice had gone quieter than she intended.
"Tell me who you are."
"I've told you twice."
"Tell me again."
She sighed.It seems running laps around his mind when he was under a sedative was a bad idea.
The doorframe under her hand felt further away than it had a moment ago.She tightened her grip and felt the wood grain press into her palm.
"Azul," she said carefully."Of the Borjigin.The Akwaugo."
He seemed not to react; did he perhaps not know the name of his bride?Did he still think it was Obiageli?
"You should be frightened of me."
The floor tilted.She adjusted her weight and the motion cost her more than it should have."I'm currently more concerned about the fact that you've been standing for—"
Her knees buckled.Her grip on the doorframe held for one moment, and then her fingers slid free and she went down sideways, her shoulder catching the frame on the way.
The blade disappeared from her throat.
She almost fell to the ground, but she was caught in his arms, and the wounded man groaned as he made an effort to ignore the pain.Her cloak fell to the floor, and she could only look up at the masked face, his hair falling loose to tickle her skin.
"What's wrong with you?"The hostility in his voice was replaced by worry.He lowered her to the floor, arms still propping her upright.Her body felt like lead, unwilling to move.
"Nothing."
"You can’t seem to move."
