Page 25 of The Princess of Nothing
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Water was forced downmy throat. Food was given to me pureed. Cream was rubbed into my sores. I was being brought back from the brink of death, and the agony was throbbing. “Stop,” I said with a gasp when I was finally able to speak. I lost count of how many times I’d gone in and out of consciousness.
“Please, miss, stay still.” A woman spoke. Her voice was soft, her touch gentle. She dabbed at my cuts, bruises, and blisters slowly, patiently. “It’s okay, miss. You’re going to be well,” she cooed when I hissed at the sting of the ointment.
“You’re lucky,” she said.
If I could have laughed, I would’ve. “Lucky?” I managed to splutter.
“Prince Kiros wanted you alive. He brought you here, to me.”
The name etched into my mind. I clung to it. I didn’t want to forget. The prince who’d allowed me to be put in the pits. Same with the rest of his family. He allowed me to be tortured. The son of Xenos Mallory. I was going to kill him.
“Where is he?” I asked, mustering what little energy I had.
“He will come to check on you shortly,” she said. “I’ve never seen someone sleep so much.”
I focused my eyes, and her features unblurred. Her eyes, big and honey brown, were attentive to her task of treating my leg. Her lips, small, thin, and rosy pink, were set into a hard line. Her blonde eyebrows were pinched downward in concentration. Compassion laced her expression when she finished. She was thin and wispy, and her blonde waves were tied into a knot at the back of her head. Her skin was blemish free, but her nose was smattered with freckles. “Done.” She smiled. “I’ll bring you some soup now that you’re awake enough to eat it.”
The room was big enough to fit two of mine in from home. The floor was white marble, matching the countertops and cream walls. The gold finish around the room gleamed. An ornate blue rug stretched across the floor, stopping at a stone basin where cloths and bandages were piled high.
The double doors opened. A man strutted through but stopped when he saw me. I balled my fist.
His glacier-blue eyes found mine. The crown on his brown hair told me he was Prince Kiros. He wore a self-assured grin, had a strong jaw and Romanesque nose, and his arms looked like they’d tear through his shirt sleeves. He wore a suit and was tugging at his white collar. I could tell he was a prized jewel of Berovia. I bet his father was so proud of him, the golden boy of the family. I could always tell them. I’d met enough. He was perfect, and I couldn’t wait to kill him.
“You.” I glowered at him, my tone filled with enough venom to outdo a redthorn viper.
He closed the distance between us and sat at the end of the bed. “How are you feeling? I know you don’t remember, but I saved you out there.”
He looked pretty pleased with himself. I wanted to wipe that smile off his smug face. My eyes bulged. “Are you serious?” I was seething. The rage inside me boiled over, tipping me to the point of murderous. “How. Am. I. Feeling?” I ground my teeth. My heartbeat quickened. “I have been tortured!” I spat. “Kept in a bloody cage for who knows how long while my kingdom,my kingdom, has gone to my pathetic cousin. I have watched men die and almost died myself, and you ask me how I’mfeeling?”
He bit his bottom lip and stood. “Perhaps this isn’t the best time. I’ll wait until you’ve calmed down.”
I wanted to launch myself at him, but my broken body wouldn’t let me. Usually, I’d formulate a plan, but my anger bubbled just under the surface and I couldn’t ignore it.
“Yousavedme?” I scoffed. “Is that what you’re telling yourself?”
“I’ll have Edna bring you more bandages.” He looked down at my arms and turned on his heel.
“Get back here!”I screamed, my voice drying out at the end.
He hurried out the doors, shutting them behind him.
I sat back on the bed, falling against fluffy pillows that only brought me pain. I couldn’t bear anything touching my skin.
I eyed the bandages wrapped around my arms. Two had come loose in my rage. I put my hand up in front of my face and took in my bony fingers. I was skinny, too skinny. Carefully, I turned my head. To the right was a mirror. I could just make out my reflection as I sat forward. I didn’t recognize her. I brought my hand to my eyes, and my reflection copied. My eyes were so dark underneath, the whites were bloodshot, and my skin was so cratered, bruised, and cut up that I was afraid to move. My lips were covered in dry blood that had settled between the cracks. My fingernails were chipped and split. I looked gaunt, like a skeleton. My hair was limp. Some of it had fallen out. If I could have cried, I would’ve.
Trapped in suffering, I did anything to distract myself. I thought of Cedric and wondered if he was ever coming back. My mind was a space where I could ignore my body and imagine scenarios, creating them as if they were almost real. When I was younger, I was told my imagination had little use, but now it was saving me.
With my eyes closed, I envisioned a frozen lake, where a forest of dark green stretched into the shadows at the end. Snowflakes drifted down, joining the rest of the white. Gray clouds rolled above. It was peaceful, not another soul for miles around. In the distance, I saw an empty log cabin. I raced toward it, ready for sleep, for a retreat away from my hell. When I opened the door, I found a bed by a cozy, lit fire. I imagined lying on it, hearing the crackling as the logs burned to embers.
“She’s angry.” I heard a voice outside my bedroom door. “She’ll come around once she has recovered. In the meantime, take care of her.”
I pretended to be asleep when Edna reentered the room to tighten the two bandages that had come loose. “You poor thing,” she whispered as she sat on the bed, making it dip. “You’re safe now.” Her promise was a lie I was almost prepared to believe, as my mind wandered back to my haven.
Edna hummed as she tightened the second bandage. “His Highness is going to take good care of you. He’s a good man,” she whispered, as if she thought she could persuade me in my subconscious. “You belong to him now. This is your home.”
