Page 8

seven

Anara

M y fingers lazily dance over the scars along Ereon’s ribs as I listen to his heartbeat against mine. I should be hurt more — he loves another — but I’m not. I knew this day would come. I knew one day the truth would come into the light. This body may be young, but my soul is old. I’ve seen what secrets can do.

I gaze over at the young captain still sleeping on the chaise. I could tell by his reaction to the Princess awakening — he has secrets of his own. He has feelings for her, but it’s more than just infatuation. His emerald eyes that gazed into mine last night were ridden with dark shadows.

I feel Ereon run his nose over the top of my head, breathing me in. His lips touch my hairline and his corded arm pulls me closer to him. I knew when he saw me, he would see the brokenness of my body. I wince at the thought of his father’s touch, the sting of the whip, the slap of his hands. But I didn’t want Ereon to remember me in such a way. I wanted him to remember me as I was, how it felt to be inside me or wrapped in my arms.

“I missed this,” he mumbles into my hair. “I missed you.”

His fingers dance up my thighs, inching closer towards my core before I reach down to stop him.

“We have a guest.” I rise up and nod towards the chaise.

“It could be his turn to watch.” He takes my forearm in his strong grip, pulling me to him. Before I can ask what he means by his statement, he crushes his lips over mine. The roughness of his beard caresses my bruised face. Breaking the kiss, Ereon mutters against my lips, “You’re right. We should probably wake him so he can return to his own quarters.”

He grabs a pillow from behind his head before launching it towards the sleeping man. Thylas jumps from where he lies. His tousled hair is half in and half out of a leather tie, his eyes wide and alert before focusing on me. While shadows may still hide behind his gaze, I can see a piece of him is pure. He means it when he says he’ll protect the once-sleeping princess.

“What the kos? , Ereon?” he grumbles, running his fingers through his hair before they snag on the leather tie. He untangles it from his hair, letting his shoulder-length black locks flow down. “Could you have at least gotten out of the bed and put on clothes before waking me?”

I look down quickly at the sheets, Ereon’s leg sticks out from the side. His morning hardness causes the silk sheet to tent over him. “My kingdom has a lot of faults, but I refuse to sleep the first night back in my bed in discomfort just because you are here.” Ereon’s thumb traces back and forth across my shoulder and goose bumps pebble the flesh there.

Thylas reaches down and grabs his armor and places it over his gray tunic before grabbing his broadsword, still in its sheath. He stands up and stretches, his hands reaching towards the ceiling.

A quick knock on the door before it opens has me jumping, and Ereon sits straight up, reaching for his swords — which are always on the table beside his bed. Thylas turns as a man I’ve seen just as often as the King appears. Ataiun, King Atlas’ personal guard and errand boy, stands in the doorway taking up most of the space there. His cold blue eyes sweep the room as he takes in his surroundings. His light brown hair, tinged with blonde, hangs to his shoulders, similar to Ereon’s. He could almost be attractive if I didn’t know the type of man he is.

Ataiun was a revered soldier in the Prel before tales of his cruelty made their way to the palace. He would not only defeat the monsters of the north, but he would taunt them and keep them alive for days by dissecting them to see how much they could take. This caught Atlas’ attention, and so Ataiun became his personal guard. Inside the palace, however, Ataiun is known as the King’s dog. He’s loyal to him, does what he’s told, and takes the King’s scraps — in whatever capacity he can get them.

While I was with the King, Ataiun would join in. Atlas still had his rules — Ataiun wasn’t allowed to have his cock inside me — but most things were negotiable. He enjoyed hanging me by the chains on my wrist while he carved into my skin.

“Well, this is interesting,” Ataiun says as his eyes flicker from Thylas to Ereon. “I knew you loved women, Ereon, but I didn’t know you gravitated towards men as well.”

Ereon throws his legs over the side of the bed while grabbing his silk pants and slides them over his legs. As he’s wrapping the matching black robe with gold embellishments over him, he walks around the bed and stands in front of Ataiun.

“Ambassador Thylas was reporting on the state of Princess Carnaxa. Why are you here, dog?” Ereon’s voice is filled with irritation.

“Careful, Prince. Your father has never let me dole out your punishments, but one day, he will. Just like he did with the little bird there.” He dips his head to me. My wrists ache at the reminder.

Ereon takes a step to his left, effectively blocking me from Ataiun’s view. “Does your visit have a reason or did you just miss me?”

“Not you, but I do miss her.” Ataiun's cold, heartless voice fills the room, before he continues. “Your father is waiting for you and the Princess in the throne room.”

Ereon’s jaw clenches before he turns to Thylas. “Thank you for your report, Ambassador. Please return to Princess Carnaxa and let her know of my father's request for her presence.”

“I’ve already been there, so there is no need. Kyaw is with her now, helping her prepare,” Ataiun states, a cruel smirk plastering his face.

My jaw clenches as I think of Kyaw. She always seemed kind, but she is preferred by Ataiun and King Atlas over the others. I remember once, when she spoke up against them. The consequence was having her jaw wired shut for three moons, and ever since, she only speaks when required.

Both Thylas and Ereon share a glance before Ereon returns his attention to Ataiun. “Very well. You’ve said what you needed to say, now carry on.”

Ataiun gives a mocking bow before turning on his heels and leaving the room. Without even glancing at me, Thylas and Ereon both turn to the doorway that leads to her room. They leave silently through the door. I sweep my legs from beneath the bedding, wondering how long I will call this my room. Will Ereon throw me into the yir supa along with the other women who give the King comfort — willing or not? I don’t think he would be so cruel ... but when he finds out the truth … he might feel justified.

The flames beside me catch my attention as they spark and sputter and I try to call forth the magic inside of me. Longing to see home, I focus in an attempt to turn the flames into a mirror. A way to see my people, even if they don’t realize I’m doing it. If someone is near the flames I see through, I could speak to them, even for just a moment. The magic hums inside me, but is quickly gone. I don’t have enough to do what I need. I let out a frustrated sigh.

My itchy skin under this black bracelet is becoming unbearable. I look for some clothes I have stored here in Ereon’s room. The dark fabrics feel soft beneath my fingertips and I realize how much I’ve missed them while Ereon was gone. The King kept me in nothing or, if I was lucky, a ratty dress that barely covered anything.

My body still aches from what Atlas put me through. How his wretched smell covered me. It probably still does. I look around, making sure the men are still out of the room — I am going to take a bath. I walk to the balcony, covering my hands with thick fabrics. Pipes in the palace connect to an underground well to then distribute water to each room’s balcony. We have a constant supply of warm water as it is heated by the sun. I grab the large basin that’s already full and carry it back to the bathing chambers in Ereon’s suite. I’ll make this trip multiple times, the bath will be worth it.