Page 74 of The Nightmare Queen

I’m at a loss for works and, “are you not uncomfortable?”, is the only thing I can think of to ask him. He readjusts his shoulders against the wall and brings a hand up to my forehead, pushing me against his collarbone. “Well, I wasn’t until you started moving around. Now shh. We’ll talk in the morning.” I open my mouth to argue that it is, in fact, already morning but he can hear the thought forming, his voice drifting into my mind, “in the actual morning, Nightmare. Just a little longer.”

“Okay…a little longer.”I sigh.

The three of us didn’t officially wake up until Axel yelped. Rorin and I both startled looking over to see Ezra standing over Axel.

“Get up, Mecham.” Ezra’s voice a command. A scathing look skates over Rorin and I, the two of us still wound around one another, “we have things to discuss.”

Axel rubs his side and flips his middle finger up at Ezra’s retreating back, “didn’t have to fucking kick me, man. Gods.” He shakes his fingers through his hair before looking at the both of us, eyebrows raised. His gaze drops up and down, a sleepy smirk curling up.

I cock my head at him, mouthing, “don’t say a word.” He raises his hands up defensively and scrambles out, leaving us alone to untangle our limbs. Rorin stands first reaching his hand down to help me up. I refuse the gesture.I am perfectly capable of standing up,I think to myself.

I pick up a shard of glass, examining the damage. Cool fingers touch the new cut on my shoulder. “You should get a healer mage to fix that.” His voice is quiet and our eyes lock in the fragments of the mirror.

“No. It stays.”

He takes a step back, moving towards the door his hand rubbing the nape of his neck as he stares at the marks. “Part of me is hoping that I am wrong in the thought of who made all of those scars. Part of me is hoping that there is someone responsible, someone that I could make pay for subjecting you to that. But I’m not wrong am I? I’m not wrong in thinking that the person who is…who…”

My head dips down, furiously blinking tears threatening to slip. “It will never be an answer that you like.” His fist connects with the frame as he walks out. I can’t bring myself to look back at him. I’ve never been ashamed of my habits, of how I choose to cope. But when he acts like he actually cares…no.I think,he doesn’t get to care. He doesn’t get to feel any way towards how I deal with the festering wound his family left in me.

Millicent is sitting up in the bed fully awake when I step out of the bathroom, but she keeps quiet while I take my time walking to the wardrobe. I twisted my wet, sink washed hair up into two buns at the base of my neck on my way. There is a pair of brown leathers hanging that I slip on over my legs grabbing my thigh holster off the vanity and securing it around the slippery material. I tuck a few daggers into the holster and a pocket sized one in between my breasts. All I need now is a shirt, looking through the rack I come up dry.

“You could always wear one of Rorin’s, I doubt he’d mind.” Millie says from behind me. I look over to Rorin’s wardrobe, closest to me hangs a billowy white undershirt. Throwing it on, I see that due to our height difference the shirt hits at the top of my thighs. I button and cinch up my green embroidered waspie corset or the shirt to tamp down some of the wideness of it. The collar is equally wide, hanging easily off my narrow shoulders and exposing my tattoos and scars.

My lips thin when I spin around to face the girl in the bed. “You almost died.”

Her face turns sheepish, as she shrugs “Sorry?”

I roll my eyes my hands rolling and pushing up his sleeves. “Yeah well, I would really hate to be responsible for your death simply because you drank a drink that wasn’t yours.”

“I heard you, last night.” My lips turn down in a frown. I grab my boots slipping them on and reaching for the doorknob. “They won’t go down easily.” I freeze in my spot, my head swiveling around to look at her.

“What did you just say?”

She sighs, sitting herself up straighter. “I said - they won’t go down easily. If you plan to make him king you better have a damn good way to do it. Trust me.”

I tilt my head, considering her. “And why should I do that, dear?”

“She didn’t always used to be like this.” Her voice quiets, her focus on her fingers twisting in her palms as she looks down. Anger flares to life in my chest at the mere mention of the queen. “You’re the product of something terrible that they did. But I have lived alongside them for eighteen years. And I am the product of something great they did, and because of that, I know everything. You’ll need me.” I’m at a loss of what to say, too many mixed emotions swirling around in me. “So just trust me, if you want them dead? Be ready for a fight.”

“And willyoufight me? When the time comes?” Her features turn cold, her gaze glazing over.

“No. The woman I knew is gone now, never coming back. And for what happened to Rorin…they deserve to hang.”

Our conversation comes to a close when I decide to leave so that she can get some rest. Walking out into the common area the tension is thick, icy stares wandering all over me. It’s not hard to find Rorin amongst the men, he’s leaning with his arm against the fireplace. He gives me a very slow once over from where he stands a smile twitching at his lips, my stomach sinks a little at the heat of his gaze on the nearly see-through shirt of his. . “Nice shirt.”

“She’s awake.” I announce and the three of them - Bennett, Max, and Orem all leap up from their seats.

“Hold.” Ezra’s hard voice rings out causing my men to freeze begrudgingly in place. Bennett however walks away from what him, muttering, “you’re not my fucking commander.”

Max and Orem lower themselves back down and Ezra’s hand swings out towards me, “explain, Eveera.” He orders.

“Explain what?” I ask, my arms crossing to mimic the way he is standing.

“You’re joking. What do you mean ‘what’?" His hand juts out at Rorin. "You’re marrying him?!”

The prince and I look at each other, unable to help the shock on both of our faces. “Marry?” We ask at the same time.

“You said you were going to make him a king!” Mousy exclaims.

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