Page 80 of Heartbreak Prince

Vawn tackles the carpet, trying to roll it up. He and Severin tangle and thrash on the floor for a few minutes while I slide out of bed and move slowly along the edge of the room, holding onto the furniture. Each piece is heavy, luxurious, bearing decorative panels inset with flat chips of semi-precious stones.

While Vawn and Severin continue to tussle, I poke my head through an archway and discover the bathroom. It’s all pink porcelain tiles and blue crystal fixtures—quite possibly the prettiest room I’ve ever seen.

“Hot water,” I breathe, shuffling toward the tub.

From the next room, I hear the carpet wheeze, “She’s going to bathe. With the stitches. You should stop her.”

“Fuck,” Vawn mutters, and then he’s in the bathroom doorway. “Syth, no. You can’t, not yet. We’ve been washing you twice a day, but you can’t be immersed yet. Your incision—”

“We?” I ask. “You and who else?”

“A couple of the servants, appointed by Lady Kaenan for your care. I took care of you on the way here. I did everything for you during those two days of travel.”

Heat creeps into my face as blurred memories surface, including the incident where I soiled myself.

“Don’t look so chagrined, love,” he says in a teasing tone. “I only did it so Severin and I wouldn’t have to endure the mess. There was no one else to deal with it.”

“You should have dumped me in the forest and continued without me.”

The look that flashes through his eyes has teeth of its own, scarlet and furious. “You really think I would do that? After all this? Come back to the bed, you stubborn little creature, or I’ll drag you there myself.”

“I want to wash my hair.”

“That can wait.”

“No.” I scrunch up my nose, trying to figure out how to explain it. “Once my hair gets to a certain point, I can’t rest until it’s clean. I won’t be able to think of anything except how oily and grimy and itchy and horrible it feels—”

“Fine,” he interrupts. “I’ll wash it for you. Sit on that stool and lean over the side of the tub.”

“A servant could do it.”

“Nonsense,” he says sternly. “Obey your king, or go back to bed.”

I sit astride the stool and bend forward over the tub. Vawn turns on the water, then takes a small pitcher from one of the shelves. He plucks out the fresh flowers inside it and rinses it well before using it to pour warm water over my hair. A little of the water drips into my nose, so I adjust the angle of my body. The stitches twinge at the movement, and I place one hand on my side.

“Are you all right?” the prince asks.

“Yes.”

“I should tell you what I’ve learned since we arrived here.” He speaks slowly, like he’s reluctant to share the information. Like it weighs heavily on him, and he doesn’t want to pass along the burden.

“Tell me.”

He sighs, sliding his fingers through my wet hair and pouring more water. “There’s a ruler in Belavrin now. His government is the Redemptive Authority, and he calls himself ‘the Exemplar.’ He is rarely seen in public, and only from a distance. He wears a black mask covered with diamond snakes. And he has a second, a general of sorts called the Paladin, who always remains at his side. The Paladin wears a helmet without eyeholes, like the others we’ve seen, except his helmet has a mouth aperture rimmed with silver teeth. Most of the orders come from the Paladin, apparently. They call their soldiers Redeemers.”

“What’s with the fucking disguises?” I mutter.

“I have no idea.” He sets down the pitcher and pours thick liquid soap from a bottle into his palm. “That’s not all. In addition to the reward and the wanted posters, the Exemplar announced three days ago that he would be taking twenty-five prisoners off the streets every day that I do not turn myself in to the Redemptive Authority.”

“What?” I fling my head up, splattering him with drops. “Is he killing them?”

“Not yet, thankfully. So far the Redeemers are seizing them from towns and villages near the capital and putting them in the local prisons. But as you can imagine, their families, friends, and neighbors are concerned for their safety. If the arrests continue, the economy will begin to suffer as more members of the workforce disappear.”

“Let me guess—they’re taking mostly common folk. People without wealth or resources.”

“Oddly enough, no. Lord Kaenan says the captives have included a number of high-born citizens.”

“So he’s trying to scare the nobles, too.” I close my eyes as Vawn massages the shampoo into my scalp. It’s a strange juxtaposition—my concern for the citizens of Belavrin clashing with the delicious sensation of his fingertips working through my wet hair.