Page 27 of Dragons & Dumplings
And the third thing I noticed was that Mei was seated in a chair beside the bed, fast asleep. I spotted bandages on her arms, and one on her cheek, but I was relieved to see that there were no other obvious injuries.
Sleep softened the normally fiery, spirited planes of her face. Her red hair, which was usually pulled up in a bun or plaited down her back, cascaded loosely down her shoulders.
On impulse, I reached out my own bandaged hand to gently touch her cheek, just above where the bandage rested. My chest tightened. If she got a permanent scar, I didn’t know how I was going to forgive myself.
I should have moved on from Willowmere the moment I found the scales in the cave. I had my proof. My fleet would never be able to ridicule or dismiss my work ever again.
So why hadn’t I left? I knew that every day I stayed was another opportunity for Mikhail to track me down.
And look what had happened.
It was because of my own selfishness that Mei was hurt. She was hurt right before the Harvest Feast, when she needed to be at her best.
And yet…
The idea of leaving this warmth behind, of never finding it again…
That had scared me far more than the seemingly distant threat of Mikhail and the rest of the Frost Fleet.
Mei stirred, but still I did not remove my hand. Her golden eyes shot straight to mine, a smile lighting up her face.
“You’re awake! How do you feel?” Her dark pupils expanded.
“Not as terrible as I was expecting.” My voice sounded as rough as gravel. “Why did you put yourself at risk like that?”
Her smile dimmed. “Why did you lie to me?”
I opened my mouth to explain, but the words stuck in my throat. My hand drifted back to my side. The easy atmosphere that had grown between us was now fraught with tension.
Mei stood, and busied herself with something I couldn’t see on the desk. With her back to me, at least I couldn’t see the disappointment in her eyes. But her words echoed in my head all the same.
She was right. Ihadlied to her. And my lies of omission had put her in danger.
Would things have been different if I’d been honest with her from the start?
“Where am I?” I asked, instead of replying.
“In my room.”
I blinked, my cheeks heating. She had brought me to her home, and nursed me in her own bed?
Great. Now I felt even worse.
When she turned around, Mei was holding a tray with fresh bandages that smelled strongly of aloe vera. I watched her carefully unwrap the strips of cloth, to reveal my worst case of frostbite so far. Mikhail really hadn’t held back this time.
As she cleaned the damaged skin, Mei explained softly, “I wasn’t sure we were going to be able to save your arm. But fortunately, Mrs. Morelli coached me through how to counteract the frostbite with my fire magic. It might leave some scars, but at least you get to keep the arm.”
If I had still been among my own fleet, our healer would have simply amputated my arm. And my father, Moroz, would have looked at me with disgust, and told me that only the strong survive. That a real warrior could fight through any pain.
I tried to pull my arm away instinctively at that memory, at the need to hide any and all weaknesses that had been ingrained in me for most of my life. But Mei scowled, and pulled my arm back towards her to continue her ministrations. Soon, she had the entire thing wrapped in fresh bandages.
“Asking for help and then accepting it aren’t crimes, you know,” she said gruffly.
My eyes welled with tears, not only at her words, but because of the way she was treating me.
Like I was worthy of treatment.
Ofcare.
