Page 23 of The Wild Prince’s Favorite (The Dragon Empire Saga #3)

From his exasperated tone, Alezya could tell he thought she was stupid to have moved, and she darted a glare his way without thinking.

She was prepared to be hit or something for that glare, but instead, he just slowly shook his head and got back down on one knee.

“ Ashu. Tarmilha klila. ”

What in the world was he saying? At least she knew by his tone he wasn’t mad...

Alezya decided to stay still and wait as her body wouldn’t have it any other way anyway.

The man pulled the bowl of water closer and slowly undid her bandages.

Just him taking them off was horribly painful.

She knew he was trying to move gently, but every single bone in her feet was making her pay for her mad race earlier.

Was it broken? She’d never felt that much pain radiating from her ankles, so much so that she teared up.

She kept wanting to cry, but bit her lip not to. But her lip was painful too, and she just kept groaning more, her fingers grabbing the mattress helplessly.

When he had finally taken off all the bandages, she dared to glance down. From the pain, she was expecting her feet to be covered in blood and the bone exposed or something, but it wasn’t half as bad. At least, not to the eye, because the state of those feet didn’t match the horrible waves of pain.

They were cut, each foot with at least a dozen open wounds, but if they had bled, it had been cleaned already. Her soles felt like the skin had been completely scraped off, all of it burning at the smallest blow of air.

She forced herself to take long, deep breaths while the man kept touching her feet. Even more than the pain, Alezya was obsessed with that man’s strange attitude. He was washing her feet?

She reddened even more than when she’d realized she was naked, or when her legs were suddenly exposed. A man was willingly washing her feet! Not only that, but he was doing it so gently toward a prisoner! What kind of mad situation was this?

Alezya covered her mouth, in utter shock.

Somehow, his hands touching her feet felt incredibly intimate, and she had no idea what to do with herself.

No one had ever washed her feet for her, no one had ever touched them since her own mother!

Men didn’t wash women, it was the other way around, and only between married couples!

Did this man not know how humiliating this was?

But he didn’t seem to feel humiliated at all.

In fact, he was taking care of her feet with so much caution and gentleness she was astonished.

They both remained quiet while he cleaned her feet, took off the weird paste, and reapplied a new layer before putting new, clean bandages on.

While she was still in shock, Alezya was first and foremost trying to withstand the pain and move as little as possible.

It was soon over, and the man pulled the blankets and furs back over her legs and stood up.

He was carrying the dirty bandages and cloths, and quickly walked out, leaving Alezya alone again.

Although she couldn’t see them anymore, her eyes were still riveted on her feet. The pain was making her realize one thing: she wouldn’t be able to move around on her own two feet for a while, no matter how hard she pushed her body. And this thought broke her heart more than anything.

Alezya was dying to go back for Lumie. Every instinct in her body screamed for it, even though a part of her knew it was probably already too late.

The part of her that had been rendered cold, rational, merciless by life.

Still, her heart couldn’t stop circling back to that tree stump.

To the hole she’d left her daughter in. That last vision of Lumie haunted her. …Had she survived?

The thought alone made her stomach twist. She hated herself for even letting the darker possibility form, but Alezya wasn’t naive. Not anymore. She had faced death too many times to pretend this couldn’t end the worst way imaginable.

It was simple. Brutal. Two possibilities: either someone had found Lumie…

or no one had. If it was the latter, if her baby was still curled up alone in that hollow, out in the cold…

then it had already been too long. Alezya had been unconscious for hours.

No child could survive that. Her breath caught, and tears slipped free before she could stop them.

The pain bloomed sharp and sudden, even worse than any physical pain that already harassed her. Overwhelming, numbing, ravaging, it felt too much to endure. Her heart ached like it was bleeding raw, burned, and crushed all at once.

Her heart had been left behind in that tree trunk, and right then, the only thing that prevented Alezya from shattering completely was a thin, lingering shred of hope.

The hope that someone had found Lumie. That her baby girl had cried, shouted to the world this injustice, and that somehow, some kind soul or even the gods themselves had heard her and intervened.

Maybe even that strange man. If they had saved her… maybe there was still a chance?

For the first time in what felt like forever, Alezya dared to believe. Dared to pray. Because the alternative was a void she couldn’t survive falling into.

She had to pray. To all the gods she’d forsaken before, to all those who looked down on her and felt any pity. At some point, she realized she was crying. Silent sobs wracked her body as she curled in on herself, pressing her newly bandaged hand to her mouth. The shame hit next, hard and vicious.

What kind of mother was she? She should never have been one in the first place, not someone like her. Not someone so broken, so stubborn, so sure she could do this alone. What had that pride earned her? Nothing but the unbearable truth: she didn’t even know if her daughter was alive or dead.

How could she not? Wasn’t a mother supposed to feel it?

Wasn’t there supposed to be some sacred bond?

But Alezya felt… nothing. Just emptiness.

A hollow ache where certainty should be.

It was the worst pain she’d ever known. And doubt was her last punishment, haunting her like a nightmare waiting to swallow her whole.

The part of her heart that had endured all the hardships, that had been beaten over and over, that had survived with difficulty, told her it was probably over.

It was the pessimistic voice, the one who knew she and Lumie had lived on borrowed time ever since they were alienated by the rest of her clan. Perhaps the most reasonable one, who knew the chances of a toddler surviving alone in the cold, in the middle of nowhere.

And then, there was the other part of her. The part of Alezya that still wanted to believe, because the alternative was a truth so unbearable, it threatened to crush her from the inside out.

The heart of a mother inside her, who desperately needed to hold on to that small, incredibly tiny chance that Lumie was alive somewhere, somehow, just so she wouldn’t give up. She couldn’t give up on her baby. Because if she gave up that hope… there’d be nothing left.

The man returned while she was still crying.

Alezya hurriedly tried to wipe her tears, as she hated to cry in front of anyone, even more so this stranger.

He didn’t say anything this time, and instead, walked over.

To her surprise, he was carrying a small bowl with a spoon in it, and still steaming food inside.

Her stomach jumped in expectation. Her body didn’t care for her mind’s turmoil; she was starving.

“ Kuha .”

Eat it, or something like that. This time, this man’s words were easy to decipher. Once again, he took a spoonful and ate it in front of her, before handing her the bowl.

Even if he hadn’t eaten some before her, Alezya would have probably given in. Her body was just begging for food, and whatever was in there smelled good. She tried to recognize the food before tasting it; it looked like some sort of orange soup, with little chunks floating at the surface...

She tried just the liquid first. It was good, and even better, nicely warm.

It had a slightly sweet taste, despite clearly being savory.

She ate one of the chunks next. Some sort of vegetable.

Another, brown piece. Meat! She was given meat?

Why would they give precious meat to a foreigner, especially one who is most likely a prisoner? She was confused again.

To her surprise, when she glanced at him, the man was faintly smiling. ...That man was definitely strange.

He turned around, leaving her with the bowl, and went to take care of the fire. Then, he opened the entrance a little, exposing the room to the cold air from outside.

Alezya pulled the blanket over her a bit tighter.

Because she needed both hands to hold the bowl and eat, she had to keep the blanket under her armpits and hope it wouldn’t slide down.

If that man was the one who had bandaged her, had he.

.. seen almost everything already? She didn’t care much anymore.

She kept eating, trying to convince herself she was going to need to heal fast if she wanted to go look for her daughter, ignoring the voice that was insulting her for filling her belly while her child’s whereabouts were unknown.

She had to be stronger than that voice, at least while she waited to know for sure.

And then, she’d accept whatever punishment there was.

But right now, she needed anything she could get to feed that last shred of hope.

At least that soup thing was good and filling. Since Lumie’s birth, she’d only ever eaten rabbit meat—it was all she could catch on her own, and she hadn’t been allowed to touch the clan’s food. Her traps must have been bad, because she’d only managed to capture a handful of rabbits.

But the meat in the soup wasn’t rabbit. The bits were thicker, and it was tastier, making her curious.

She finished the bowl, and the man walked over, taking it.

“ Inkir? ”