Page 34 of The Chains You Defy

“Your reaction wouldn’t be any different if you were in my shoes. Denying the truth is futile. I mean, do I have to remind you of Cupla?” My eyebrow rose, and triumph blazed through my chest as I witnessed Fig’s stoic composure falter for a moment, followed by a twinge of unease I was unwilling to analyze.

A little over two centuries ago, his twin sister had been taken at night by unknown enemies, and normally, I wouldn’t mention those dark days my general was working so hard to forget, but here I was, throwing fistfuls of salt into the barely scabbed wounds.

What had Fig expected? After all, I’d earned the favor I wanted to call in back then. For a long time, I’d held on to the boon, but the right time had come. Killing the merchant was that important to me.

“Bastard.” Fig leaned forward.

I retaliated to his bared teeth by showing him my own, my throat vibrating with the low, rumbling warning I granted him instead of just pouncing at his provocation—after all, we were comrades.

“So you want to redeem what I owe you?” Fig forced his voice into a carefully collected tone, but he couldn’t fool me. A skilled warrior like me easily spotted the muscle ticking in his cheek, the clenched jaw, and the tightly balled fists, even if all those signs were minuscule.

Surprisingly, a sliver of guilt raised its small head inside my chest and lingered in my throat, something I’d rarely experienced, and I, disgusted as I was, did my best to harden myself as fast as possible, convincing my conscience—if the pitiful remnants could be called by this name—that the end justified the means. Anyway, I’d unpack these confusing notions later, not in the middle of a very important bargaining conversation.

“Yes. Join me when I get my revenge.”

“Then so be it,Your Royal Highness.”

Ouch, his use of one of the honorifics he knew I hated was like him thrusting a knife into my guts, but honestly, I should have expected his displeasure.

Although my skills were superior in almost all areas, I wasn’t too vain to admit that tactfulness was not my strong suit—maybe there would have been a better way to approach the exchange we’d just had—and well, I wasn’t so arrogant as not to acknowledge my shortcomings.

Nerves bundled into a tight ball as I noticed the distant expression my general displayed, and one didn’t have to be a mind reader to conclude he was remembering his lost twin sister.

Another contemplation for later.

So I simply dipped my chin. “Then let’s plan.”

Every time I’d woken up during the last few days—or weeks?—I’d been half asleep, only awake enough to eat, drink, or go to the bathroom before sinking back into bed.

That, apart from when I used the restroom, a fussing fae princeling was constantly attached to my hip—or, more correctly, I was unable to free myself from his arms—had become my new normal. To say he was overprotective would be a grave understatement—I was almost convinced he believed I’d dissolve into thin air if he didn’t keep all my parts together.

Yes, I protested, but in all honesty, not as much as I should have. If his goal was to soften my angerthrough attention and care, he couldn’t have picked a better strategy. It might be pathetic, but after those never-ending days in the dungeon, the promise of safety he exuded was enough to unearth all the emotions of friendship I’d buried deeply.

Not that his behavior was enough for me to forgive him yet, but the annoying certainty that I would let go of my grudge, given some time, had anchored its hooks into me. And I suspected he could tell since he relaxed further the more time passed.

Today, something was different. Not only was I wide awake when I opened my eyes, but apart from a faint discomfort around my rib cage, my condition seemed to have improved a lot, and I marveled at that fact.

To my surprise, Dion was nowhere to be seen, and his side of the bed was cold. He must have left quite a while ago, and I wondered where he’d wandered off to. Still, his absence was another clue to how much better I was. And not only me—if he’d given up on the proximity of the last days, his magic must have been properly restored as well.

Right on cue, something wrapped around my upper biceps, started to purr, and the tip of a black tendril gently nudged my cheek.

My eyes widened as a pearly laugh fell from my lips.

When had I last made a joyous sound like this?

Lifting my hand, I stroked my fingers over my inky companion, caressing its slender body. Its surface was soft and warm, as usual, and I wasn’t surprised in the slightest when the magical construct curled itself around my hand as well.

“Come on, buddy, this isn’t the most comfortable pose.” Huffing, I realized too late I’d been talking toDion’s magic as if it had a consciousness of its own—and not for the first time—but when the tendril instantly let go of my hand and instead circled my arm, I couldn’t help but feel warmth spreading through my chest. So what if I behaved as if the conjured strand were alive? As long as no one found out about my silliness, I wouldn’t be called out on it.

When the clingy creature had finally settled down, I realized what an opportunity was presenting itself to me—a chance for a little bit of privacy. Carefully, I shifted until my bare feet hit the plush surface of the carpet, and after collecting my strength for a few moments, I left the bed to wobble to the bathing chamber.

On my brief visits, I’d seen how splendid the luxurious washing room was, but only now could I appreciate the extent of what I perceived.

The centerpiece of the room, tiled in colorful mosaics, was a large copper tub, and this was where I was drawn to, as if I were pulled by a string. Obviously, I’d been cleaned by whoever had changed my clothes, but I was still sticky and dirty, and I imagined that a disgusting film of grimy residue had taken residence on my skin.

Confronted with more levers and buttons than a simple tub should be allowed to challenge me with, I tried them all, and fortunately, I found out fast how the mechanism worked.

One lever filled the basin with water, and another warmed the liquid. A button I pushed added a few scented oils, and I never felt more provincial than at this moment. At home, we had to get water from a well, and if we wanted our bath to be warm, we had to heat it in the kitchen.