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“How did you do that?” Nyana asked, probing at her foot. No traces of the bruises and swelling. Unfortunately, dirt and blood covered her skin, and with it a scent of rotting, mildewy, rat feces. She gagged at her own stench.
Instead of answering out loud, Lyyli picked up a notebook and wrote with a quill. It read, Killian is a master at making potions.
Yet, Lyyli held herself with pride, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. If Nyana didn’t know better, she would have thought Lyyli created the potion. But she refused to pry.
“How long will you stay? Our home is your home for as long as you’d like.”
Again, she wrote in the notebook as if unable to speak again. Only until tomorrow night. Killian may be running me ragged by doing as much as possible with me for the short time he has me, but even he needs to rest sometimes. The woman smiled softly at her sleeping husband.
“Thank you,” Nyana said, hands pressed to her heart. The words felt inadequate. “For everything.”
Lyyli shrugged and signed one thing Nyana recognized. “You’re welcome.”
Joel called from the next room. “Mrs. Stinky Harrington, your bath awaits!”
Nyana snorted and rolled her eyes, climbing to her feet and following his voice to the washroom. She grinned at the sight of him leaning against the tub and closed the door behind him before holding out her arms. “Come give your wife a hug, Mr. About-to-Reek Harrington.”
“You stay away from me.” He attempted to peer behind her, but she blocked his escape.
A mock pout formed on her lips. “But I could use a hug. Come here.”
“Don’t you dare.” Steam wafted between them as he moved to stand behind the safety of the tub. “If you get that stench on me, I swear to you I will make supper tomorrow.”
The threat hung in the air. Holding its breath. Watching. Waiting. Just the thought of him burning everything in her kitchen gave her enough pause for him to attempt to dart past her. But she grabbed onto his arm and spun him back around. An evil grin spread across his face moments before he pushed her toward the tub.
She stumbled backward.
But not before pulling him with her.
Together, they flipped over the edge of the bathtub and splashed into the water, fully clothed. She gasped at the sudden shock of submersion while he stared wide-eyed at his soaked clothing.
They glanced at each other, chuckled, and then laughed harder as they splashed each other until the water covered every dry inch of them.
“Great.” A teasing grin spread across his face as he flicked water at her one last time. “Now I not only smell like dung, I am soaked to the bone.”
“You were the one who pushed me in.” She moved closer to him, smoothed back his hair with her wet hands, and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You are deplorable.”
And when he laughed, she promptly cut off the sound with a kiss.
Chapter 20
“I’m not ready for this.”
Nyana wrung her hands, staring up at the tall golden walls of her prison only six months prior. She’d sworn she would never set foot within the palace again, adamant about staying far away from the terrifying birdcage. Blood had been spilled here. A part of her wondered if Calle knew just how much.
Heavy weights clamped onto her lungs, each breath more difficult to draw than the last. She spotted the stairs Liam had dragged her up kicking and screaming after she thought he’d killed Calle. Just inside the door was where he’d hit her for the first time to silence her sobbing.
Terrible memories of darkness, pain, and loneliness resurfaced at the mere sight of the front doors of the palace guarded by two familiar harpies. Two harpies who hunched their shoulders in guilt at the sight of her. They’d had no choice but to keep her prisoner here during Liam’s reign. She could not fault them.
She quickly spun around but stumbled when her mind spun with dizziness. Joel caught her by the arms.
“Nyana?” he questioned.
Another heavy, raspy breath as she squeezed her eyes shut. “I hate it here. I don’t want to go in. I can’t go in.”
“Breathe, love.” His soothing voice helped calm her frantic nerves, and his gentle hands climbed her arms to her shoulders, his thumbs caressing her neck. “Breathe.”
With her eyes closed, she focused on taking deep breaths.
