Page 120 of Shadows and Roses

Castien met their eyes one at a time while removing the silken strings of a bracer. The leather fell away, making him feel strangely half-naked. They frowned at the jagged scars on his wrist while he reached for the buttons of his shirt. His eyes closed. Their pity, their horror, and shock, he could withstand. He breathed and let his shirt open.

He knew what they saw. White lines, smoother across his chest than his wrists. Most had been made with a blade, but they crossed each other so often as to make it irrelevant. While many had faded, it was still possible to trace hundreds of lines. Hundreds of screams.

"I don’t remember much of it. Octavius said I was gone for three moons. It felt like years. Damon, I owe you my life, my sanity, everything. But the way I’ve been behaving, maybe I’ve earned a few of these."

"No one ever deserves…that," Jerrl blurted out, his suspicion replaced by horror. The others nodded with anger, pity, discomfort, or some mixture of all three.

Kevam asked softly, "How hard did they whip you? To cause so much damage…"

Castien tensed. "Bladed whips. Claws, sometimes." Knives. The Queen of Nadraken had carved his skin, outlining his muscles. He swallowed.

Damon grunted. "Enough dramatics. Button up before someone ravishes you, lordling."

They embraced, tears wetting Castien’s cheeks when they separated. Damon’s expression seemed strange but it must have been just the tears blurring his eyes. Then his friend was smiling and pulling him into a seat.

"I don’t know how you stand to be around any noble, especially a lady." Damon grimaced.

"Briefly, for the most part." Castien smiled tightly. "And Master Octavius is a very good healer."

They nodded and Damon sighed. "Apologies, Castien. We shouldn’t pick at your wounds. But our stories are too common—the nobles taking and doing whatever they want with no consequences."

"It's why we're here, isn't it? I'm glad the Queen convinced you to join. That should be an interesting tale."

Damon scowled.

Jerrl chuckled. "Our ‘undefeated’ leader is still sore about that, actually." He mockingly dodged a glare and added, "He lost a sword fight to the Queen, was mad about it for days."

Castien raised his brow. "How did you even convince her bodyguard to let you get close with a sword?"

Damon grunted. "Jerome? He’s like any good soldier—I convincedher. It was onlya whim. She was so damn serious and irritable, I thought a good fight would loosen her up. Who knew the Queen could fight so well?"

Castien stifled a laugh."Ah—just about everyone? The nobles all do, she makes sure of it."

"Those bitches are never right about anything. Anyway, it all worked out, I suppose. You’re here. We’re here."

Castien gave a lopsided grin. "Well, that certainly tells me a lot of nothing."

Jerrl laughed. "Your Queen is brave, too. We demanded she come out to see us. We were certain that was the end of that. But she showed!"

Damon grunted, narrowing his eyes at Castien. "Did you tell her to visit us in the woods?"

"No, I’m as surprised as you." And he wouldn’t have suggested it. He wouldn’t have trusted Damon’s deep-seated anti-royal rhetoric, fervent even as a youth, and now compounded with a hardened outlook on life. An opportunity to erase one of the tyrannical rulers—he wasn’t certain he could have trusted her life in Damon’s hands. No, that wasn’t right. He definitely would not have trusted Damon.

Clearly, he would have been wrong.

"Well. A murderous Queen ought to be good with a sword," Damon mumbled through clenched teeth.

"I can’t imagine that’s what convinced you to join her army."

He shrugged. "It’s an alliance, good for all of us. They’re still my people. We made it clear we’ll leave if we don’t like the look of things."

"You know, you’re starting to sound like a lord yourself."

Damon grinned. "Then would it be lordly to ask how your Queen is in the bedchambers?"

Wouldn’t he know? "In this court? Most definitely. Haven’t you managed to seduce her yet?" He maintained his casual smile despite the tightening in his chest.

Damon snorted. "To my great sorrow, she’s remarkably resilient to my charms. It’s been very hurtful to my pride. Maybe you could put in a kind word?"

---