AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Reaching out my hand, I shook my head. “You’ve done enough for me by telling me this. I appreciate it more than you know.”
After a quick handshake and sharp nod, he stepped back through the portal, which sealed behind him, leaving me standing there alone and filled with fury.
But although the rage burned like hellfire inside of me, at least I had direction. Purpose.
A single-minded goal to destroy my father at all costs.
8
THE BARON
Morning sunlight beat down on the baron’s face, and he opened his eyes to the sound of a quiet knock.
“My Lord, I’ve come to check on your wounds,” Drystan spoke low, as if he did not want anyone to hear. “May I come in?”
“My wounds are just fine.”
“Of course, but I am afraid I cannot go about my day without first checking.”
“I insist that you go about your day and leave me to sleep.”
“It is your mother who has asked that I fetch you, My Lord. I only want to ensure that you are in a state to accept her invitation.”
Groaning into his pillow, the baron stretched and flexed his muscles, the absence of pain reminding him of what had happened the night before with his wounds. “Yes, I will meet with my mother. I do not require your examinations. Allow me to dress first.”
“Very well. I will let her know.”
Running his hand over his head, the baron yawned, before he sat up from his bed. He rubbed his hands together, smiling at the warmth stirring between his palms. The cold floor met the soles of his feet, as he slid from his bed and hooked his fingers beneath the hem of his tunic, pulling the garment over his head. As he tossed it aside, a strange sensation hit the back of his neck, and he turned in time to catch Drystan staring wide-eyed.
His cousin pointed at him, finger trembling as he held it outward. “M-M-My L-L-Lord … your back! It is …. There is …. The wounds … gone! All of them are gone!”
“Just like a rat, you snooping vermin.” The baron swiped a fresh tunic from his armoire and covered himself. “Perhaps you would fancy a spyglass for closer examination.”
“I saw your wounds just yesternight. They were … horrific. Grotesque! I do not believe it possible they could heal in a single night.”
“And yet, I stand before you as living proof.”
Drystan shook his head, taking a step toward him and back again. “It is not possible. Not. Possible.”
“Who exactly determines what is considered possible, or not, hmmm? You may want to speak to this person with regard to your lack of companionship.”
The surprise on his face withered to an unamused expression. “Do not patronize me. I know what I saw, and I have worked closely enough with the church’s infirmary to know what manner of healing is possible.”
“Drystan.” Yanking a pair of breeches up over his leg, the baron hopped on one foot, trying to keep from toppling over. “I will not ask you to make sense of what seems to deceive your eyes, but should you speak of it … well, I am afraid we will share the same fate.”
His cousin’s brows came together in a tight frown. “Of course I will not speak of it. Are you mad? I have watched their methods of drawing out bad spirits from the Ravers.”
Raverswas a term used by the Pentacrux to describe those whose mental faculties had declined. Ones they had deemed suffered from insanity due to a demon’s curse. “It is more unpleasant than having watched your punishment.”
“Good. Then, we have no more to discuss on the matter.”
Fingers lodged into the mop of red hair atop his head, Drystan paced. “How? How did …. How is it possible?”
“I am afraid that is a question I cannot answer. Now, if you will excuse me, I would like to finish dressing. Without prying eyes.”
“Of course, My Lord. I did not intend to spy. I was merely concerned for you.”
“I do not require your concern, nor your examination.”
