Page 102 of Shadows and Roses

"No."

The healer was stern and occasionally harsh, but he never lied or embellished. The honesty was difficult sometimes, but it was precisely what he needed.

"Your body is fine. They didn’t maim or harm you irreparably. You’ll dance again, if you want to. And if I have my way, it’ll be a deadly dance with a sword in your hand."

"I’d like that."

"Then run, Escort," Octavius grumbled.

Escort. What could she possibly want with him after his ordeal? That he wanted her was without question, but his desires had never been anyone’s concern.

"Am I still? An Escort?"

The healer gave him an odd look.

"Run. Ask questions later."

The sun and tired muscles were better companions than his thoughts anyway.

Vern

Boisterous laughter filled the Great Hall. It wasn’t uncommon, but the edge of cruelty was softer than usual. Damon had somehow redirected a whipping into mere humiliation. The servant girl crawled away with a slap on her ass and a plate on her head.

He seemed a good influence on the court, though he was careful. He didn’t avoid or disdain the darker pleasures. There were enough rumors of his heavy hand in a bedroom. As far as Vern could tell, they were only rumors, but the courtiers didn’t seem to know that.

Publicly, Damon acted like a lord—casual whipping, easy leashing, pawing at servants and courtesans. No one had yet commented that he only whipped the healthiest servants, and his strikes only landed on their least sensitive parts. The court wasn’t stupid though. While not every noble had the same predilections, Damon would need to come up with something particularly vile if he didn’t want to attract too much attention.

That was Damon’s problem. Vern strode down the dais, waving away guards as he stepped between the tables. Anais had looked better yesterday. Whatever creature bit her hadn’t yet been found. Likely an insect that long ago scurried away, the Master Healer had guessed.

As expected, a few nobles approached Vern. Their too-deep bows and overly-gracious "my lord"s made his scowl easier. The ensuing chatter and banter was mostly meaningless. Currying favor, asking for favors. Few legitimate concerns came of this walk, but he made it nonetheless.

Magdus was the last of them. Vern acknowledged him with a faint nod. "Councilor."

"Lord Chancellor. This… Lord Damon, heis a lively one," Magdus said idly.

Vern raised a brow. "I don’t know where he came from, if that’s what you are asking. The Queen’s business is her own in this." They were nearly to the doors.

The councilor nodded. "Oh, of course. I was only commenting on his strange manners. At times, he seems a peasant, if a charming one. Country ways, I suppose."

"Indeed."

"It’s just… some of the other councilors think it odd that he seems to have the Queen’s ear…?"

They’d noted Damon’s presence in the Queen's Wing. To be expected. Vern snorted. "If her ears are between her legs, yes. I've heard quite enough of his silver tongue."

Magdus chuckled. "Ah. Country ways can be novel."

"The novelty doesn’t entertain me. Good day, Councilor." If the nobles thought of Damon as the Queen’s newest toy, all the better. It would be satisfying to see him bend for her.

—

"I hate this."

Vern’s lips twitched.

Anais threw him a glare as she leaned out a window. "I’m perfectly fine, but the Master Healer doesn’t agree. He ordered me to rest for one more tedious day. Commanded me like a child!"

One of the few people who could. Vern chuckled from his seat. “Well, if you insist on behaving like one… Shall I have a word with him?”

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