Page 6 of Between Fear and Favor

Chapter 5

EMMELINE

The elderly manstared up at me through long, unruly eyebrows. His expression might have once been baleful in his younger days, but I found it difficult to be threatened by a man whose gout made standing painful. His complexion was pale, with almost a yellow tinge to it. He was not a healthy man.

“You have to leave,” my guard told him. Cal was young and determined to make an impression. So far, it wasn’t a good one. As he tugged at the man’s arm, I snapped at him.

“Enough, Cal.” Gathering my skirts to step over the puddle in front of his hearth, I approached the elderly man. “What is your name?”

The man frowned, his scowl no less severe despite facing his queen. “Ihon. Ihon Withington.”

“I worry for your safety so close to the city walls, Ihon.”

“We aren’t leaving.”

Surprise lifted my brows. “We? I thought it was just you living here.”

He nodded toward a door in the back, light streaming through its cracked opening. I peered through, wishing I had enough divinity to listen for a heartbeat without my head aching unforgivingly.

“My wife,” he said, and I bit my lip. There was likely a reason she hadn’t shown herself.

“What ails her?”

“What doesn’t?”

My temple pulsed, and I lifted my hand to rub the offensive spot. I thought back to my conversation with Lord Durand. When the Supreme, alongside his Nythyrian allies, had marched upon Astana, Rain and I had done our best to send those we could toward the mountains. Traveling to the eastern half of Vesta was safer than staying within a city under siege. But there was no planning for those who couldn’t get around. I couldn’t heal everyone, and it was likely many ailments were long-term enough that healing them with my divinity would be impossible.

“Is her illness recent?” I asked, hoping I could do something for her. I knew I couldn’t do more for Ihon than help him during a gout attack, but perhaps his wife suffered from something I could fix.

The man laughed, and I heard a faint wheezing. He might have suffered from respiratory attacks too. “Since your soldiers destroyed her chair, she’s been back there. But herillnesshas been with her since birth.”

“Quit hounding her, Ihon. She’s just trying to help. Better than the soldiers who came before.” The woman’s voice called out, surprising me. I’d expected a frailty to it, but she spoke with confidence.

Deciding it would be better to deal with his wife than this cantankerous man, I walked toward the bedroom. The path through the center of the hall was well worn, the dark brown wood having grown lighter from wear.

“May I come in?” I asked, peering through the small crack. The curtains were drawn open, letting in plenty of light, but I could only see the end of a bed.

“It’s not as if I can stop you,” she responded. My guard brushed past me, opening the door and stepping inside.

“Oh,” Cal murmured. “I’m sorry. I just had to?—”

“Out,” I demanded, when I saw the woman in a state of undress. She was reaching for a robe, leaning out of the bed. She was likely around my parent’s age. Though she had a head full of thick, grey hair, she appeared healthy. With pink cheeks and bright eyes, she watched my guard obey my order. At first, I wondered what possibly would have kept her bedridden.

Until I noticed her lower extremities. Her legs were disproportionately short compared to the rest of her body, and one was twisted in such a way, it must have been broken more than once. If she’d suffered since birth, there must have been some underlying illness which caused it.

“Weak bones. They have a tendency of breaking,” she murmured by way of explanation. I’d never heard of anything like it. “Haven’t walked in some time. We had a chair with wheels I used to get around?—”

“Until your brutes destroyed it!” Ihon called from beside the hearth where I’d left him.

“I believe it was an accident,” the woman explained, rolling her eyes at her husband. “But no one has been running to replace it, neither.”

“What happened?” I asked. Whoever had ruined her chair would be reprimanded with haste, I knew that for certain.

“It was old. The last time one of your men came to make us leave, he slammed the door open into it. Broke a wheel. It took Ihon all night to haul it out back,” she explained, and a grunt from Ihon punctuated her words.

“You have my apologies—” I paused, waiting for the woman to give me her name.

“Dia,” she said, and she gave me a warm smile. My gaze was drawn to her hazel eyes as they wrinkled at the corners. They reminded me of the Umbroths, and I had to look away.

---