Page 24 of The King’s Bodyguard (Catkin Trilogy #1)

Corrin

L andis.

That was all that my mind could seize on as I waited alone in the dark cell.

When Hugh didn’t return, I knew that my fortune had no doubt taken a turn for the worse.

And when three unfamiliar brutes filed into my cell, wrestled me to the ground, and chained my hands above my head, hanging me from the ceiling, I knew exactly what was about to come next.

None of it was pleasant. I’d been beaten before.

As a young lad, I had met my fair share of bullies, in the streets of Rimefrost and Kotterburg.

In Kotterburg, it had been infinitely worse, for there were not just Sunna targeting but my own kinfolk who wanted to test the strength and courage of Jan and Meera Stonewarden’s son.

I had hated them all, withdrawing into the catkin I was today.

I preferred my own company, despising my sycophants and enemies alike.

I had become as hard as the stony hillsides of Velamere’s Grey Mountains.

I had become as aloof as its wild creatures.

But beneath, deep within my heart lay a fire long untended.

When I had seen that glint of gold in the garden, I felt something spark within me.

When Landis raised his blue eyes to meet my own, I felt something.

For the first time in a long time, I felt a nameless emotion.

Regret. Protectiveness. Care. Longing. And those had transformed over time into something even deeper and steadfast. Something that my tormentor’s fists could not quench.

Images of Landis floated through my mind’s eye.

The sight of him sprawled beneath me. His glittering blue gaze warmed with lust. His hands clenched about my arms, clawing my back, as he writhed beneath my touch.

His scent flowering between us as he spent his cum on my hand and his belly.

The clench of his quivering muscles around me.

Landis had felt so good, so right. I could never truly regret the moment we had together.

I only regretted that we hadn’t tried it sooner.

My torturers were asking questions. Who are you working for? What were you intending to do with the king? What Munni plot was hatched with your conspirators? Are they back in Velamere? Was this your bitch mother’s idea?

On and on. I didn’t answer. Talking to them would lead to nothing. At best, they would keep hitting me until I said what they wanted me to say. At worst, they’d take some words of mine and twist them into a confession that would condemn my kin, or, gods forbid, Landis.

I held my tongue, but as their fists slammed into my body, marking my face, my ribs, my back, and my belly, I grunted with rising pain.

At some point, a cane was brought out and applied to my back and the back of my legs.

I passed out, overwhelmed with the burning pain of my stretched arms, aching shoulders, and now swollen back and chest. When I came to, the chain overhead had been allowed to slack.

I was lying on the floor, albeit still chained by my wrists.

My shoulders and arms were still screaming with pain, but I was able to crawl to the bucket by the door and drink some water before drifting off to sleep yet again.

What might have been the next morning, I was woken with shouts and hoisted once again up.

This time, I was able to balance a bit on my toes.

That respite ended as my interrogators, with rising fury, began to apply more pressure.

They had been given some kind of mission to extract information out of me, even if it was false.

I was not about to give it to them. Stubbornly, I remained silent except for the gasps—and then cries—of pain that were ripped from my body.

A guard brought out a flogger. Within half an hour, my back was a mass of weals, oozing blood.

The last lash of the spiked tails, just above the base of the tails, had me arching and twisting away from the agonizing pain.

I was almost sobbing with pain, but I refused to speak.

The last thing I remembered was another fist flying toward my already swollen face.

After that, I woke in the dark. I lay on the ground, bleeding profusely.

My face was swollen. I couldn’t see out of one eye, and the other was so swollen, I could only see a portion of my cell.

And the sight wasn’t all that thrilling either.

My gaze was fixed on dark, damp stone that was now spattered with the blood that had dripped down my legs, or the spit I had coughed up.

Rolling my head sideways nearly made me fall unconscious yet again.

I rested there, unable to move even a finger.

I mentally took inventory. My ribs hurt. A few were broken , I guessed. One of my fingers as well. Otherwise… I moved my legs. I could move, but barely. The pain nearly made me scream. Instead, I groaned and passed out again.

The next time I awoke, I was still alone.

This was good. Not great, but better than being tormented by those bullies.

I hoped that it was Gareth and Hugh’s doing, and not another manipulation by Lord Morne and his minions.

This time, I managed to move my head again, this time without losing consciousness.

Progress. Moving my arms and legs, however, was still a strain.

When I woke again, there was still no sign of my interrogators.

I was alone. I wondered whether Gareth or Hugh or some other person would arrive.

I could not hope for Landis. I didn’t want Landis to see me like this.

He’d be so worried and upset. The last thing Landis needed to worry about was me.

He needed to focus on keeping himself and the princess safe.

When Lord Elthorne arrived, I hoped that he would at least assure me that Landis was safe. That was all I was thinking about.

It took a while. Another day, perhaps. Then I was able to move myself to the bed. When I awoke next, it was thanks to a rough hand pulling me up the hair. I could not bat the hard grip away. My hands had been unchained for some reason, but they might as well have been. They felt heavy like rocks.

“Fukken hell,” the voice said.

A familiar voice. Father. I winced. Great.

“Jan,” my mother said mildly. “Well, at least it looks like he’s learned his lesson.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it, Meera.” My father said, dropping me back onto the pillow. “The brat has all of the commonsense of a grouse. As soon as he can walk, I’ll trot him back to Velamere right quick.”

“It will be a while until then.” My mother didn’t disagree with him.

I tried to say something, but my jaw was too stiff—or swollen. I just managed to groan a little.

“We had best keep him down here.”

“At least I can arrange to send him to a healer,” someone else interjected.

“I think not,” my father said. “He needs to learn his lesson. Pampering got him into this mess—“

“Pampering?” My mother’s voice hardened. “What are you implying?”

“You talked a pretty talk for the general’s sake, but, come, Meera. We all know you probably hoped that Corrin would build some kind of a friendship with the king for whatever reasons you cooked up.” Jan scoffed. “Don’t deny it.”

“I had hopes—“

“Gods.”

“But I never thought that they would end up so… close.”

“Thank the gods we didn’t have a girl to send,” Jan snapped. “Otherwise, we’d be in even worse shite.”

“Well, what would have been your strategy? Fighting your way through Rimefrost?”

They were at it again. Arguing as I lay there, nearly passing out from the pain.

The story of my life. What had Landis said the day we first met in the garden?

Something about the Munni and their freedom to love.

I hadn’t told him the truth. It would just seem so cruel to strip away every one of his ideals. He had said… What had he said?

The Children of the Moon, worshippers of the goddess Meryn, find shelter in its glow. They draw energy from the night... and they pursue love.

Just hearing him say that had given me hope.

It was just a dream, really, but it had been a beautiful dream.

If he saw my parents now, if he saw how they treated me, he would be horrified.

I lay there and hated them. With every fiber of my being, I wished I had woken up today alone.

It would have been better if they had never come at all.

“Well,” the other voice said mildly.

Hugh?

“I will not stand by and let Corrin bleed out to death. He was placed in my care. Only because of Lord Morne’s interventions was I separated from him.

At the very least, we will deny Lord Morne’s victory by ensuring Corrin leaves the castle on his own two feet.

” Hugh’s voice brooked no disagreement. “Corrin has made a name for the Munni—and not just by bedding the King. He saved the crown time and time again. You may rest assured that I will care for Corrin while you enjoy the celebrations. I believe there is another feast tonight?”

“Yes,” my mother said softly, recovering her serene facade. “Of course, we leave Corrin’s detainment to your discretion, Ser Hugh.”

“I suppose we should go ready for the feast.” My father agreed truculently. “Will I be required to change? Some newfangled outfit?”

“It’s called evening wear, and, yes, you are not about to show up in your hunting garb. Let us go, Jan.” My mother turned toward my general direction. I did not attempt to look over and instead glared at the wall. “Rest well, my son.”

“Stay out of trouble, brat.”

With that, my parents stomped out. Now alone, Hugh heaved a sigh.

“I’m going to arrange to have you cared for, Corrin.

You aren’t going to be left alone down here.

I might even get you somewhere nice. I’ll be back in half an hour.

I promise. That rat bastard Lord Morne isn’t going to be able to stop me this time.

We’ll make him pay for what he did to you and Landis. ”

I grunted.

“Hu-” I tried again. “Hugh?”

“Yeah?”

“La-landis? Safe?”

Bloody drool dribbled down my chin as I coughed up a bit more blood. Dammit. I didn’t feel all that great.

“He’s… he’s holding up, but he’s safe. Lord Elthorne has wrested back control of the court, and everything is back to normal.” Hugh paused and then added, “Well, almost everything. Stop talking and rest. I’ll be back with Aileen.”