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“Would you forgive me if I wished to be bedbound for the entirety of tomorrow?” I admitted, stifling a yawn. A deep, unsettling tiredness had overcome me. It made my bones feel as though they were made from iron, my blood from hardened silver. “I don’t imagine my knees will work for a long while.”
“Sleep,” Arlo replied, voice as meek as my own. We had driven each other to the edge of exhaustion; it was near impossible to keep my eyes open as I nuzzled into his shoulder. “You have earned the rest.”
I wished to say more, do more, but I gave into the wave of peace and closed my eyes. “Good night then, darling.”
Arlo inhaled deeply, worming his way back into me until we were completely connected. “Night, Your Majesty.”
25
Ihad lost count of the days which passed both painfully quick and torturously slow. Hidden beneath the bed I was splayed across, etched upon the slabbed flooring, were the marks I had made, my countdown which I no longer had a need for.
Death crept up on me, a silent assassin waiting in the shadows of time to strike. To take me. And I waited for it. My fists clenched and jaw gritted, preparing myself for a fight. I would not be taken without one.
Every day since we had returned from Neveserin had been the same. I woke hours before Faenir, as though freezing waters had been dumped upon me. Each time I took my first breath, I expected to feel pain in my lungs. Every time I coughed; I would pull my hand back as though preparing myself to see the splattering of blood upon it.
If the sickness did not come to claim me soon as it had my parents, the sense of impending doom would likely take me first. Or I would be murdered instead. The person behind the attacks had still not been found, nor did it seem that Claria cared to locate them. How hard was it to locate the killer when all she had to do was look in the mirror to see them? Faenir believed it too, which was why he refused for me to leave Haxton’s boundaries again.Faenir trusted Claria would never come to Haxton, whereas I didn’t count on that.
I dared move from my position, head resting upon Faenir’s chest, feeling the rise and fall and every strong beat of his heart. Unlike most days, when I would come to realise that I was alive and the sickness kept at bay, I happily laid upon him, waiting for him to wake.This evening was different. Today I needed to move, to do something that would distract my mind.
“You have a habit of sneaking out of bed,” Faenir groaned, tugged unwantedly from sleep as I slipped from his chest. I winced, face crumpled, as I woke him. Sitting myself upon the edge of his bed, I buried my face in my hands. The bed creaked as Faenir reached over and placed a hand on my shoulder, urging me to lie back down.
I shrugged him off. “I thought it would be a gracious gesture if I offered to help Ana in the kitchens this evening.”
Ana was one of the many serving staff that Myrinn had sent to Haxton when we had left. Faenir couldn’t refuse them entry even if he wished to. Aided by my demand, he allowed them to come.
During the short time in Myrinn’s home, I had grown used to the subtle noise of life. Haxton was desperate for such a thing. Witnessing people as they floated up and down hallways, their chatter echoed throughout the many rooms, had made this place more… tolerable.But my thanks for their presence went far beyond what they did to Faenir’s home. It was what they would do for him in time. Faenir would never be alone again and if that was the mark I left upon his life, then it would be a scar worthy of pride.
“Not that I care to speak on her behalf, but she has already got the help. Come back to bed. I can give you something to assist with if you so need the distraction,” Faenir replied. “And if I told you I enjoyed helping? It makes me feel less… useless.”
Faenir chuckled deeply at that. The muscles across his stomach rippled mesmerizingly. For a moment, I almost forgot what my mind had been set on.
“I am beginning to believe you and Ana are having a flippant love affair with your disappearances,” Faenir said, grinning wildly. “Is there something you wish to share with me?”
In all honesty, having company besides Faenir was refreshing. Cleaning pots or helping prepare food worked wonders at taking my mind off my looming death. It was another tactic of distraction that didn’t end with having my clothes torn from my body, not that I minded the latter.
“Far too old for me,” I said.
Faenir did not miss my wink; he flashed teeth. “What a relief. Now, stop teasing me and get back under the sheets. I am growing ever so cold without you. We have an entire platter of pomegranates that should not go to waste. Just imagine how offended Gildir would be if he knew they were left to rot.”
“I’m going. There is nothing you can say or suggest that will make me stay,” I said shortly. Images of the night prior were still vivid in my head. Even now, hours later, and the taste of the fruit’s juices made my teeth sticky. “May I be the one to remind you I couldn’t care for Gildir’s gift, or feelings. Let them rot and send them back to him with a ribbon, if you so desire.”
“Oh, that would truly be a waste when you seemed to thoroughly enjoy his… apology last night.”
“And what about you?” I asked, cheeks prickling from my smile. “Did you enjoy yourself?”
“Enough to not allow you to leave my side!” Faenir said in jest. Except he was not entirely joking. I could see in the concern that darkened his eyes that he did not trust me in anyone else’s care.
I stood from the bed, keeping my back to him. “Believe it or not, not everyone is out to kill me. If Ana wished to see me harmed, she could have spoiled many meals and finished the job long before this very moment.”
He had undoubtedly struggled with the change in Haxton’s climate and the proximity of others in his home. Although he moved out of the way of anyone he crossed, ensuring he was far enough not to cause them pain, he also spent most of his time hiding within this very room. Here, with me, limbs entangled or not, Faenir did well at becoming a ghost in his own domain.
“If you will not be cautious about your own life, then I must.”
I could have told him he was wasting his time, snapped and shouted at him for thinking in such a way. But I gathered myself as I had the hundreds of other times. My anger was not a result of what Faenir said, but the truth I kept from him.
My lies were poison, eating me away from the inside.
There had been so many times I had wished to tell him, but every time the words nearly left my mouth, I would see a vision of him, the contorting of his beautiful face into the very expression I had made when my parents died.I was resilient, but not strong enough for that.
