Page 109 of Reign of Light
“Hmmph,” I grumble, trying to will my eyes open, but everything feels heavy and difficult to move. When I finally force them open, the burning makes me want to shut them again, but I don’t. I want to see him. I need to see him.
“Go back to sleep,” he murmurs as his lips hover just above my skin, and I grunt again.
“No.” My voice is a barely there rasp, and it feels like the cut of blades as the air from my breathing and speaking slices through the space, but I do it anyway. He leans back, hovering just above me, but the shadows cast over his features make him barely visible. I place my hand on his cheek, feeling for any bandages or stitches, and he leans softly into my touch.
“Did you see a healer?” I mutter.
“I told you I would. They said I’ll be fine.”
“Mmm,” I hum, happy that he took care of himself and didn’t just ignore his needs to take care of mine. I take a deep breath through my nose and inhale his fresh scent that tells me he must have cleaned up before coming back here.
“Are you in pain?” he asks gently, and I decide not to lie. What’s the point? I don’t want him to worry about me, but I also want him to know everything I’m feeling. There’s no hiding anything between us anymore.
“Yes.”
He straightens and turns toward the table, picking up the bottle he set there before.
“Drink this. Roxyana said it will lessen the pain and help you sleep.” His hand cups my jaw while the other guides the bottle to my lips. He tilts it back, helping me take small swallows until the entire dose is gone. I was always grateful for the healing magic on Dawnlin, but I haven’t missed it more than I do now. The injuries I endured there never seemed that bad, because the pain was so short-lived. The island wouldn’t let us suffer long.
Not here.
Here the pain is prolonged and masked, and the healing takes away from everything else this new life demands of me.
“Thank you,” I murmur. He doesn’t respond, only sets the bottle down again, then kneels next to the bed with his elbows resting on the mattress at my side.
“Were there any more threats?” I sink into the propped pillows and turn my head slightly so I can face him, but it’s still too difficult to see.
“No. It seems like everyone who knew about it was in the throne room with us. Everyone else was kept in the dark.”
“How long were they all here?”
“Only a few days. They locked Rem in his room, so he knew something was wrong, but everyone else just thought the king needed solitude.”
“Bastard,” I grumble, and Weston huffs a laugh.
His hand reaches up and brushes my hair off my forehead before falling down to the bed again. “We’ll learn more when we question the ones who were in charge.”
“I want to be there. At least for Brynne and Storm.”
“Of course,” he agrees.
There’s something I still don’t understand, something that has been hovering in the back of my mind since I heard the guard in the throne room refer to Weston as ‘sir’.
“If they were all kept in the dark, how did it all end? How did anyone know to come get us?”
“Remember when you thought something was wrong as they led us to the throne room?”
It seems like that happened so long ago now, but I remember. I remember Guthrie making comments about Weston being beaten too hard, and worrying that he needed help from all the blows they landed on him.
“Yes.”
“The guards in the corridor, ONeal and Charles, have been guards for a long time. They started as young men, and while they may not look it now, that is how I remember them. I commanded them. I trusted them. So when I saw who was stationed as I walked by, I used a phrase that signaled a mutiny to them. They didn’t forget.”
“And they broke in,” I breathe. The booming sounds, the splintering of wood, the rattling of chains. Those two guards gathered other trusted men and broke into the throne room.
They saved our lives.
If it had been any other men stationed there today, we might not be sitting here, whispering in the dark. I will never fail to be impressed by all the ways Weston is the best at what he does, and the quick and decisive way his mind works.
