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5
RHIANNON
"Excellent! See? You're looking stronger already!"
The doctor's words were condescending, filling me with fresh rage every time he made me rise only to have me sit back down again. I had managed to get into the walker three times in a row unassisted, and was starting to feel confident in myself, but the next time he instructed me to pull myself up, the thing slipped sideways, and I barely caught myself on the bed before tumbling to the floor.
I was out of breath, and sweat clung to my hairline and my upper lip. On the other side of the room, a tray of food sat growing colder by the second. Five attempts. That's what he had told me. I had to get up five times successfully, and then he would let me eat. Seething, I straightened myself out and pulled the walker back in front of me, planting my feet on the ground once more and checking my grip.
The doctor stood a few steps back, clutching his clipboard and watching me with unmistakeable amusement, all traces of encouragement and friendliness long since faded. Now, we were adversaries, and he knew it.
With a feral growl, I leaned all my weight onto my palms, pressing the walker down into the ground and forcing my legs to straighten one last time. To my satisfaction, I managed to get to my feet, raising my head so I could look him in the eye. And yet, he wore a smile of triumph.
He barely gave me a second to enjoy my victory over my traitorous body before he clucked and turned away, jotting down notes in my file. He went to the chest and picked up the tray of food absently, bringing it back and setting it on the foot of the bed. I felt like a dog, forced to perform tricks to earn my meals. If I ever made it out of here, I was going to strangle that man with his own stethoscope.
The nurse came over to help me arrange myself in the bed, and the door of the room banged open, making me yelp.
"Everyone out," he barked. Nikathy.
There was a moment of hesitation. I looked at the nurse, pleading with my eyes for her not to leave me here with him. He looked deranged. I could hear his breaths coming in hot bursts as he filled the room with his presence. Faintly, something in my core stirred, and I swallowed. No. I was not attracted to this wild alien man. Not a chance.
"Leave," he repeated, glaring at the nurse directly until she dropped the covers and skirted her way out of the room, well beyond his reach.
My mouth was dry, but damn it, the butterflies in my stomach had turned neurotic. What was wrong with me? We were in a standoff, and I didn't know what to say. All I could do was gape at him as he huffed and waited for the door to close behind him. When it finally clicked shut, his shoulders dropped by a fraction and he raised his head to look at me.
"These people have no respect," he observed, as if this was a feeling we should have in common.
I looked down at my hands, trying to quell the fluttering that unnerved me before daring to look back up at him. What could I say?
"Have they been good to you?" His eyes passed to the tray of food, still untouched at my feet. "Are you well taken care of?"
For a second, I thought I caught a glimmer of care and concern beneath the fury, but it was fleeting. He was growing impatient with my silence.
I shrugged. "They've been fine."
Evidently, this was not what he had been wanting to hear from me. His face tightened, and he bared his teeth in a dissatisfied sneer once more. I thought he was going to go hunt the doctor down and rip his throat out, and while I might have liked to see the patronizing man put down a notch, I wasn't sure he deserved Nikathy's unbridled wrath.
"Tell me why you are unhappy," he demanded, apparently thinking better of going after the doctor.
There was a shift in the room. Now I was on the defensive, scrambling to find my words. If he came for me now, I would be helpless. My arms were so tired from the exercises, I hardly thought I'd be able to swat at him, much less stop him from tearing me to shreds.
"I'm not unhappy," I began, choosing my words carefully. His brow creased and I felt myself reaching for something else to say. "I was merely questioning why I couldn't stay in the hospital, as I expected. It does seem a nuisance for you to keep me here."
I tried an innocent smile, hoping to reassure him that I meant no disrespect.
To my surprise, his expression softened almost instantly, and his shoulders slumped. Speaking to no one in particular, he said, "This is what my father gave up his ship for? Men who would stab him in the back, and women who can't appreciate the comforts of a lavish home?" He went to stand by the window, looking out over the gardens wistfully.
"I didn't mean to seem unappreciative," I spoke up, feeling a little like I needed to defend myself. After all, it wasn't the lavish home that made me so uncomfortable. It was him. "I just..." How did I put this delicately? "...I think it odd that I was brought here. Do you take such an interest in everyone you save from battle?"
He turned away from the window, coming straight toward me. I had nowhere to go but deeper into my pillows as he loomed over me, looking down at my body with contempt.
"Do you know who I am?" he snarled, his voice sucking all the air out of my lungs and making me wish I hadn't spoken up. "Doesn't it look like I already have everything I could ever want?"
Before I could think better of it, I retorted, "I wouldn't know. I've been treated like a prisoner since I woke up. I haven't seen anything but these four walls. I don't know who the hell you are, or why you think you had the right to bring me here, but you should've known that it would make any woman suspicious."
"You are not a prisoner here. You are free to do as you please. It is merely your own legs that are holding you back."
And with a savage quirk of his lips, he went to the door.
