Page 17 of Glass and Bone
“You need to run.” He says, his eyes filled with fear. “You need to get out of there.” His hands tighten on my shoulders as he shakes me. “Are you listening? You need to find me! Go!”
Cinnamon and herbs flood my senses, strong enough to burn the hairs in my nostrils. Fighting the urge to sneeze, I listen. The sound of someone moving around me, shuffling papers and bottles clinking, brings my body into awareness. I don’t know where I am, or who it is that sits by my unconscious body, so I keep my eyes closed and focus on steadying my breath to appear like I am still asleep.
I use this time to take inventory of the physical pain I feel. My legs are stiff and sore, probably from the many falls I took. My skin feels tight, no doubt a result of caked on blood and dirt. A dull ache throbs on my forehead, the result of leather meeting skin. My throat feels tight, I can almost still feel his hands on me, squeezing my neck.
I take a second before I fully focus on the pain between my legs. It’s a pain I have never felt before. It feels like I was stretched and ripped beyond reason, which I was, for the pleasure of a stranger. It hurts, but not as bad as it did at first. It’s more of a dull ache that spreads to my core.
My virtue, the only thing that gives a woman value in this damned world, was taken from me. My hope is that I’m dead or at least not at the palace. They can’t see me like this. I know that is unlikely, given that Theo’s face was the last I saw, but I will it into existence with everything I have.
I am unsure if it was Theo who wielded the sword that beheaded my attacker, but it’s a safe assumption. His head, sliced in two, sliding apart. It’s an image I will never be rid of. The top of his head falling onto the ground, nearly landing on me. Blood pouring out of his body, covering me in yet another’s life essence.
I find myself wondering what would have happened if Theo hadn’t arrived. Do I even care what would have happened to me? I would like to think I would mind, but in that moment, and even now, my fear has been replaced with numbness.
Would the man have finished what Aleksander couldn’t? Or would they spread me around like a bottle of cheap ale? The most likely answer is probably a mixture of both. I am grateful for Theo’s rescue, but I am still worried about what my fate will be if I am indeed in the palace.
Will I be cast away like a common whore? Or will they accept my trauma and help me move past it? King Evreux isn’t a kind man, but if Tobias is, my hope is that he will still agree to wed. I don’t want to marry the prince, but if he is kind enough to take pity on me, maybe marriage is a better alternative to whatever else the king may think up. I internally sigh, with the fear of facing the unknown creeping up.
My muscles, tight and restless, make staying still a chore. Knowing that too much valuable time has passed while I lay here, pretending to sleep, I allow my eyes to open. I am immediately blinded by brightness causing my eyes to squint. Staring at the marble ceiling above me, I realize what I am seeing is sunlight reflecting off the bright, glossy stone. An interior I remember from my childhood. I made it to the palace.
Of course.
I quickly sit up until I am fully upright, throwing my legs over the side of the bed I am in. My breathing is labored as I immediately feel every bit of pain my mind was shielding me from, blood rushing from my head. Glancing down at the thin sheet wrapped around my legs, I rip it off, gasping as I take in the sight.
My pale legs are covered in bruises and cuts. There are swollen stitches on my thigh where the dagger had pierced my skin just below the hem of the pale nightdress I currently wear. The dirt has been washed off, which makes me wonder who it was that cleaned my unconscious, naked body.
Turning to face the person in the room, I see an elderly man with rosy cheeks and bright complexion, much like the sun filtering through the windows. He is sitting at a desk right behind the bed I was just asleep in. My eyes flick around the room and I see a row of empty cots line the wall behind him, with curtains in between. Only one curtain is closed, hiding whoever is injured or sick. The bed I am on seems to be in the middle of the room, right across from a large workbench. Windows line the back wall, illuminating the room through sheer, white curtains. Various shelves and drawers fill the empty spaces, with books and bottles crammed into the small nooks and crannies.
I turn back to the man next to me. He meets my eyes and gives me a look of relief and something else I can’t quite pinpoint, maybe sorrow? His gray hair is pulled into a tight knot at the base of his neck. The wrinkles etched into his skin, along with his soft hazel eyes, make me feel at ease. He looks to be around fifty, old enough to be my grandfather. This man isn’t a threat, at least I hope he isn’t. His most noticeable feature is the thick red cloak flowing around him like a river of blood.
A river of blood that I saw pour out of a man not too long ago. Two men, actually, if I include the one Theo killed. I cringe at the thought.
Under his cloak, he is wearing a matching white and silver tunic and trousers, the silver threading catching on the sunlight and sparkling. Wealthy, from what I assume. Maybe he is the palace mender? A master by the looks of him, not a mender. Knowledge and authority come with age, and I am assuming he has spent nearly his entire life perfecting the art of healing, which gave him the title of master in the Noterran court. I let my eyes meet his again as I try to read him for some sort of inkling of what is to come, but he just looks at me with indifference. I figured he was expecting me to speak first, so it surprises me when he opens his mouth to talk.
“Hello, Your Grace. You have been out for some time.” His voice is soft, barely above a whisper, but filled with wisdom, no doubt a product of the years he's lived.
“How long?” My voice cracks as I make an attempt at speaking, my breathing finally controlled. My throat feels dry, and stiff.
“Three days. We gave you the essence of wisteria to help you sleep and heal. We were worried about any residual swelling in your brain from your injuries, so we assumed it was best to let you heal as long as your body required. You were unconscious upon arrival, so you were brought here to the infirmary.” He responds, watching my face for any sign of emotion. Three days I have been asleep. I stay stoic, unsure of how to react to anything somewhat surprising anymore. “It took some time to find all of your wounds and tend to them, thankfully they are healing rather quickly, with the worst being the stab wound on your thigh and the blunt force trauma to your head. There were also some bruises and cuts that didn’t quite line up with the timeline of your attack, but I patched them up nonetheless.” He stops, not entirely prying into the other wounds on my body but giving me the option should I wish to talk about them.
“Thank you.” He nods, a small smile plastered to his face.
I sigh and dig my broken nails into the palms of my hands. I still feel light, delirious, as if someone else has control of my body. My muscles ache and are protesting against any movement I make.
“He drugged me.” I remember. He nods. “It was in the water?”
“He had a feeling you weren’t going to make the trip here easy, so he did what he thought was best.” He smiles, failing to hide his approval of Theo’s methods. “Do you know what happened to you?” I nod and he gives me a sad smile as he reaches towards a small glass and a decanter. He pours a thick, pinkish liquid into the glass and holds it out to me. I stare at it, hesitant, for a second before meeting his gaze. “It will not cause you to fall unconscious, Your Grace. I promise.”
My hands close around the glass and I tentatively take a sip of whatever cool liquid he provided. It’s sweet like nectar, or some kind of fruit with a hint of spice. Not realizing how thirsty I am, I finish the drink quickly. The thick tonic coating my throat easing the dry, scratchiness. I hand the glass back to him and he nods in approval before refilling it with a decanter sitting beside him.
“Well, you will be alright. You are not pregnant, we made sure of that, although you will have some herbs to drink today to ensure you stay that way for the time being. With the act you endured, we are going to try and force your monthly bleed earlier in order to rid you of any unwanted pregnancy. You willbe physically fine in no time, dear.”Physically. I nod again, not knowing what to say, so he continues speaking to fill the silence. “The guards combed the woods near where you appeared and found his body, the man you killed, and burned him. If he had help, they should take that as a warning to stay away. Although the king is not quite sure who he belonged to.” I slightly lift my shoulders, shrugging to indicate my own confusion.
Whether it’s fear or exhaustion at this point preventing a coherent response, I don’t know. I can’t possibly be exhausted if I’ve been asleep for three days, but I have no energy to engage in conversation, at least not one that forces me to relive that night.
“The other man, the one that was dealt with, was left in the woods as far as I am aware. No doubt acting as a secondary warning. I can never understand the reasoning behind half the things these men do.” He chuckles but stops when he meets my gaze. His eyes hold mine and are full of wonder, probably contemplating what I am thinking. He hands me the glass back and I drink from it.
“What is this?” I swallow, my throat loosening. I can taste something floral and something super sweet, almost like peaches.
“It’s poppy pollen and fruit nectar mixed with a mild pain reliever. It’ll help your body heal as well as prevent any lingering pain from causing you discomfort.”
