Page 166 of Unrivaled
“I’m going to walk with you,” I said, putting my hands flat on my thighs because I didn’t know where else they should go.The movement made me remember the way we drummed when things were bad.
I took up the movements myself, on my own limbs, tapping my hands quickly.Her head hung.She rocked from side to side.Her free hand flexed, rhythmically.Mimicking her movements, I rocked as well.From foot to foot, I shifted my weight.I drew in big, deep breaths to fill my lungs and held them there, the hope and promise of that air, then let it go with all the fear and rage that didn’t serve me.
At first, I thought it was my imagination that she was following me.Breathing with me.The watch called the hour and I didn’t care.Her breathing was levelling out.Her movements became less jerky and more rhythmic.Her head slowly raised.
“I need to sleep,” she said, her voice thin.
“Can I help you upstairs?”
She reached out and put an arm around my shoulders.I wrapped my hand around her belt to take as much of her weight as I could.
I could’ve carried her up the stairs without pausing.I could’ve done it running.That wasn’t battle-energy, it was because she was of a fine, wiry build.I’d only seen her as fragile once before, when she’d been dying of plague.
Dying of plague…yet here she was, strong.I got her to her bed and folded her into the covers.“Thanking you,” she said, seeming to shrink into the blankets.There was dried blood rimming the inside of her nose.
I hesitated, thinking of the dress, of the fine red lines in the white of her eyes and the way she shook.“Are you hurt?”I asked her, easing the covers up higher.
“It’s…an old hurt,” she said, closing her eyes and turning her face away.“Thanking you, Audrey.I thought I had it under control.”
The words were almost lost to the background sounds of the city that crept into the quiet edges of the room, so soft were they.I remained crouched beside her bed as her breathing settled and the tension drained from her limbs.I ran back over what I’d seen of her as I’d tried not to scream so furiously at Luca I could have shredded him with the noise alone.
She’d been distressed.Deeply, horrifically distressed.She’d flinched from me.
I stood.She came awake with a gasp and a start, jolting upright and reaching for a knife I knew she’d wear strapped to her chest when she was in her chosen garb.
“Just Audrey,” I told her, using my name deliberately rather than hoping she could recognize my voice.“La’Angi, autumn.”
She blinked at me.Her lips were bloodless.“Sorry,” she said.The word from her lips sank between my ribs and into my heart.“Sorry, ’Rey,” she said, rolling onto one side and sinking back down.
I ached to lift the covers up over her shoulder but didn’t dare.Instead, I walked out, hoping she heard my steps.I closed the door, better to let her rest.
I had a tourney to attend.I wanted to tell them all to light the entire thing on fire.An effigy for my rage.A pyre for her grief.
The water in the bottom of the bath was cold.I grabbed a cloth and sponged the worst of the stickiness from my skin as I ran through all the options coldly.
She’d been about when I’d been with Elnyta.Sex wasn’t distressing to her.She spoke of it the same way she spoke of violence; pragmatically.She’d heard me shout plenty, and she’d heard Luca whine before too.His oath had clearly been burning him, but she’d stood beside me near pyres before, so it wasn’t the reek of burning flesh.She’d clearly experienced physical trauma, but I trusted her to tell me if there was something that could be done.I didn’t think it was linked to her distress.
What horrendous combination had pried apart her armor and ripped the thick bandages off of old wounds, I couldn’t identify.
But I was confident it was linked to Luca.
Which meantIwas to blame, as it was me who’d let him in.
He’d sold me false hope.I thought I’d been simply renting it for one night.I thought I’d been savvy, just taking what I wanted.I thought I’d been safe.
I wasn’t the only one I could hurt.
The dress I wore was for renewal.If I stayed, they’d come looking, hammering at the door and jolting Isolde awake.If I stayed, she’d be embarrassed.
I thought of the way I’d grabbed for her and paced my room, kicking myself.Why hadn’t I tapped with her earlier?Why hadn’t I seen her distress?Why hadn’t I shoved my well-inked quill into Luca’s eye when he’d first walked back into La’Angi?
“M’lady?”
The call from below came from Thomas’ familiar voice.“Just Thomas,” I said, hoping Isolde would hear it and be soothed if she’d been jolted from her rest.On the way, I grabbed my wrap.
I hated leaving her.I hated it.But if I left, none would disturb her.
It wasn’t just Thomas, but Kaelson, too, looking well-starched and neatly groomed.“Is all well, m’lady?”Thomas asked me, which was a remarkably polite enquiry given that my rooms smelled like a funeral pyre without the comforting scent of woodsmoke.
