Page 89 of A Blightress of Wrath
Karus
Pompeiistoodat the kitchen sink, sleeves rolled up with his arms elbow-deep into warm, soapy water.Hescrubbed at the many dishes that had piled up each day without the help ofLia.
Herkitchens had always been tidy and organized—a song and dance she alone conducted and without her…everyone needed time to adjust.
Jesslynkneaded dough in one corner, silent tears falling down her cheeks that she ignored, taking the reins as the cook in theFortressand directing tasks for the kitchen maids.
Irolled my own sleeves, having forgone myBaron’svest, choosing a flowy cream dress instead that fit my growing body much better.
Istepped up to his side, plunging my own hands into the water, scrubbing at a pot that had something burnt stuck to the bottom.
“Iwould tell you that you needn’t work here in the kitchens,Baron, butIdoubt you’d listen.”Pompeiicontinued his scrubbing, adding a plate to the sink next to us filled with clean water and clean dishes.Hegrabbed another few plates, added them to the sink and continued to scrub.
“IftheOverseerof thisFortressis called to help in the kitchens, then one of itsBaronscan do the same,”Ireplied.
“IfBaronRevich?—”
“Donot coddle me,Pompeii.Youare one of the fewIcan rely on for that.Ican clean a few dishes and live.”
Hehuffed in a laugh, and we worked quietly for a few minutes more.
“Iam sorry.”Ibroke the silence, something breaking in me as well.
“Ido not wish to speak of it,” he replied, adding more dirty pots to the sink.
“Thereis a chanceMychaelandRellare still alive.”
Helet the dishes fall back into the water, gripping the edge of the basin.Hestared down at the suds, his nostrils flaring, his grip tightening.
I’dnever seen him angry.I’dnever seen him lose his composure, butIheard it as he swept into my thoughts where our connection lie. “Whichdo you think is worse?Alife cut short or a life lived inside a tree, the power you hold being siphoned from you for the rest of it.”
Iflinched at the disdain in his voice clearly masking the pain of a man losing the man he loved.“Ido not know.”
“WillMychaelage if he is alive, being used as a power source?Willyou promise to find him one day whenIwalk with a cane and greet my lover, old and withered, my hand shaking asItake his?”
Mytears dropped into the suds, but my hands kept their pace.“Itried.”
“Youtried.”Hereturned his hands into the water, picking up a cup.“Thankyou for trying,BaronKarus.”
Ibit back a sob.Hedidn’t want my apologies for not bringing his love back home.HewantedMychael’slife to be out of the hands of the woman who had as much access to his thoughts asIdid.Icleared my throat, moving forward with whatIneeded to know and speaking aloud again. “Hasshe spoken to you?”
“No.”
“Butshe is still there?”
“Yes.”
“Wecannot risk it.”
“Iwill leave then, ifImust.Alas,Icannot cut my lungs from my chest asPhiliuscut his hands from his wrists.”
“Wecannot risk her taking over your mind, but what ifIhave another idea on how we can cut that bruise from your chest?”
Hefinally turned to look at me then. “Iam listening.”
* * *
“Ican’t believeyou convinced me to do this,”Clairanniamuttered under her breath as she helped guide me to build the right shape and capacity of the lungsIformed.
