Page 93 of Winter's Scorching Kisses
Adorra had struck a nerve, that much was clear to her. Those scars on his back had been so horrible, and she knew exactly what had caused them. She’d seen a man get flogged before, and it was not a sight for the weak of stomach.
The blood and strings of flesh… it was horrible, and she couldn’t believe Mathar had gone through such a horrible fate. She just wondered who had ordered him to be flogged.
Her first guess would be Dryden, but as she’d stayed here at the ice giant castle, she’d grown to see that Dryden was more than an ice giant. He was a fair and kind man. It couldn’t have been him, but who else could have had the power to subject Mathar to such pain and fear of infection?
Anyone who did survive a flogging then had to endure the fear that their flayed back would cause a severe infection and kill them.
Adorra frowned at the closed door. He may not have wanted to give her any information, but she knew another source that might be willing to gossip.
Quickly, she left her chamber and made her way towards Jasmine’s room. It was time for her to get a little information of her own. Why men had to bottle everything up was beyond her. For some strange reason, they felt as though they had to take the weight of the world on their shoulders without breaking.
As she came up to her sister’s chamber door, she knocked lightly.
“Come in!” Jasmine called out.
Adorra pushed the door open and then closed it behind her. “Dryden has already left?” She looked around but only spotted her sister.
“That man is up before the sun. There’s always something that requires him, and today it’s Mathar.”
“What about Mathar?” Adorra felt her ears perk up.
Jasmine turned at her vanity and quirked an eyebrow over at Adorra. Adorra felt a small blush crawl up her cheeks. She really needed to have less interest in Mathar, or people were going to get the wrong idea about her.
Jasmine turned back to the vanity as she stuck a few jeweled pieces in her hair. “Mathar is receiving a plot of land for all that he has done for Dryden.”
“Like killing Edmund.”
Jasmine sighed and turned slightly to look back at her. “Don’t blame him for what happened. We were the ones who asked him to do that.”
Adorra glanced at the hearth that was roaring with life. “I don’t think I can hold it against him anymore.” It was time for her to come clean while learning something new about Mathar, assuming her sister even knew anything. “Have you ever seen the scars on Mathar’s back?”
“Once,” Jasmine said as she finished with her hair and came to sit by Adorra by the fire of the hearth. “How did you come to see them?”
“This morning,” Adorra couldn’t meet her sister’s eyes, “when he left my chamber.”
Silence reigned over the room.
“How have I not heard anything about this?”
Adorra turned towards her sister who was wide-eyed and curious. “We’ve managed to keep our relationship quiet.”
“When did all this start?” Jasmine’s mouth hung wide as she shook her head.
“When we were traveling through the mountains. We came to a cabin, and there was a hearth of hot coals, and it just… happened.”
“How romantic.” Jasmine’s voice took on a dreamy note.
Adorra snorted. “It was more lustful than romantic. We had needs, and we took care of it. Nothing more. But we are getting off topic.” She waved a hand in the air. “You still need to tell me about Mathar’s scars.”
“He’s never said anything, but I’ve managed to gather some information regarding them. It turns out he never had a good relationship with his father.” Jasmine filled her in.
Adorra was worried where this might go.
“When he was younger, his father was known to drink too much and beat him.”
Adorra had been right. She wasn’t enjoying where this tale was going.
“But,” Jasmine reached out and grabbed a hold of her hand, “that wasn’t all his father did. There was one day that everyone seems to be unable to forget when Mathar discovered that his father had killed his mother in a drunken rage.”
