“Hey there,” Aurie was smiling down on Draka when he opened his eyes.
Though her hair was covering half of her face from the way it was hanging over it, he could see the bulges of the swelling that had yet to fully soften. The narrow ridge of her pert nose was still far wider than it should have been and he was drawn to the red line that crossed the side of her thick lower lip near the middle. The eye he could see was still rimmed by dark skin and there were patches of red where her ears met her cheeks and neck. His eyes filled with water as he reached a hand to her cheek. She sank into it with a smiling sigh.
“Welcome back,” her hand pressed his into her cheek while the other slid down his arm.
There were others in the room. Draka could hear their whispers and the shifting of heads perking. He recognized them. Foreign and yet familiar.
Isabella, with a wariness to her otherwise haughty tone, from the other end of what he slowly recognized as his bedchamber. There was another, deeper, but he still knew it by the inflections, by the peak of its tones: little princess Jasmine, who once tugged at his pant legs for piggy-back rides and tosses onto the pillowy sofas. But he didn’t want to look away from the blonde beauty sitting on the edge of his bed, looking down on him with that grin that was so relieved and thankful, as unwilling to let go of his hand pressed to her face as he was to pull it away.
“He’s awake!” Jasmine exclaimed from where she had been sitting. “Mother, he’s waking!”
“Thank the heavens and God above,” Isabella rose from her own chair and moved to Aurie’s side with a tuck of her hanging gown sleeves. She frowned down at Draka with a shake of her head, “No guards? That’ll teach you, you dumb brute. You nearly got my son killed!”
Draka scanned the room. Where is Adrian? Did he wake, yet?
“He’s in the Infirmary,” Aurie answered for him. “How do you feel?”
“To hell with how he feels! He’s awake,” Isabella growled. “I’m tired of being imprisoned here! I want to see my son!”
“I’m sure they will tell us the moment he wakes,” Aurie said over her shoulder, pulling Draka’s hand from her face into a grasp between both of hers. “Maud—the Queen—is just being cautious. She doesn’t know you and we already know that there are enemies among us. Who knows how many of them you brought with you.”
“We’re not your enemies,” Jasmine was glaring. “How many times do we have to tell you that?”
Draka reluctantly withdrew his hand from her and slowly pushed himself upright. There wasn’t so much an ache as there was a stiffness in his muscles. There was some pain, like little knife pricks, across his back and legs, and a soreness that made his side cramp the more he bent his back.
“Perhaps if you had sent your physicians to help care for your brother and our King, she wouldn’t be so distrusting of you,” Aurie twisted her back to Draka.
He was still trying to ease his way to a comfortable position, still trying to bend his back enough to concentrate on something other than making the cramp go away. He winced as he went. He would have waved a hand for them to stop if the ache didn't take so much of his attention.
“I would have,” Jasmine was out of her chair, stomping across the room with a hand on the empty sheath at her side, “If we weren’t made into prisoners the moment we arrived!”
“We have been terribly mistreated, Draka,” Isabella shook her head, standing near his feet. “You must tell your daughter that we are your allies and that we can be trusted. She’s been…heavy handed.”
“With good plowing reason, if you ask me,” Aurie was on her feet. And Draka saw it. The cramp, the aching, all faded at the sight of her hand on her own sword, strapped by a belt holding trousers over her hips and a tucked cotton shirt that matched his own, ready to draw. “You tried manipulating her. You weren’t imprisoned when we first got here. You didn’t even mention you had physicians among your people until it could be used as leverage to keep your own forces away from our front lines.”
“This isn’t our fight,” Jasmine stepped toward her.
Draka searched the room. The nightstand had a cup of water, a plate of food that had been left there long enough to have a layer of crust dried over it, and a dirty fork from whoever had taken those few bites from it. His mouth was dry, his throat yearning for that water, but he searched for quill, paper, anything he could write with.
“Perhaps it should be, since your son would have died if it wasn’t for my rescue party and my daughter’s skill as an infirmarian’s assistant! You should be begging forgiveness, giving thanks, instead of being a royal bitch.”
“We are merely returning the curtesy,” Jasmine tipped her head in a saucy jerk, nearly nose to nose with Aurie.
Draka’s fist slammed on the nightstand, bouncing the plate and tipping the water to spill over its side. Their heads all turned to meet his glare. He signaled for writing.
“Quill, paper,” Aurie said, softer.
“I am well aware of what he meant,” Jasmine snapped.
Isabella looked around her in a circle. “The servants won’t be here for at least another hour or two.”
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
“Oh, for plowing sakes,” Aurie shoved past both of them to the desk at the other end of the room and returned with what he asked for, along with his bible to use as a hard surface.
Draka raised a brow at her about her choice. She blinked at the cross on the cover sheepishly and winced at her mistake before grabbing one of the ledgers he had next to it.
“Sorry.”
Draka nodded and shook his head at the same time to ease her apology.
“Some Paladin you’ll make,” Jasmine said under her breath, drawing a glare from Aurie.
Aurie tightened a fist at her.
“Alliances shift with regime changes,” Isabella was still defending them. “I told you my intentions. I hid nothing. But your daughter is inconsolable. And placing us under guard, imprisoned in here, without my children, did not help but to solidify our perceptions.”
“She was doing surgery by herself on your son, her father, and one of our friends, while making decisions as a Queen,” Aurie was gritting her teeth. “And you think she was being inconsolable? To the rivers with the both of you and your alliance!”
Draka thumped his head on the wall behind him as he held up the paper for one of them to read with an irritated shake. Aurie snatched it from his hand and gave it to Isabella.
“Read it out loud,” she said.
“Why don’t you read it for us, Paladin?” Jasmine flicked her brows haughtily. “Oh, wait, you can’t.”
That’s it, Draka pushed himself wobbly to his feet and shoved Jasmine into the chair behind her hard enough that it slid backwards. Her eyes were wide saucers at him as he stumbled to keep balance though he maintained his sneering glare down at her as he put a finger to cross his lips at her. Then he turned to Isabella with a roll of his hand.
Isabella blinked and read after a swallow, “Read all before you answer. Why would you withhold physicians ever? We nearly died by our shared enemies. Adrian barely survived. I barely survived. You should be thankful for Aurie and the others who rescued us, and you should be praising MY DAUGHTER for treating us in lieu of your irresponsible and uncouth usage of assets. If she were any other ruler, you know that she would have let Adrian die from his wounds for your insolence. And if I hear another word of insult to a member of MY HOUSE or the Paladinate from either of your mouths, you will be exiled from the Paladinate and find support from any of the Orders or the Church unsanctioned with all the power vested in me, regardless of our past love. Do you understand me, Jasmine Taggerty?”
“You wouldn’t…” Jasmine began.
Isabella cut her off with a crinkle of the paper in her fists, “You shut your mouth, girl, or so help me, I’ll shut it for you!” She turned to Draka with a pleading look, “I apologize for the both of us and will do all I can to rectify our mistake. We misjudged and see our error now. We withheld the physicians in hopes of gaining a closer relationship to your House, not souring it. We didn’t know until later that you had none here, nor that she was the only one with such skills, and we are thankful for what you did for him.”
Draka had to brace himself on the wall to keep from falling over even though feeling was returning to his knees. He rolled his eyes.
Isa was still the same woman she always had been, shifting and scheming until it backed her into a corner she couldn’t leverage or ally her way out of.
He drew in a deep breath at her, still glaring, before shaking his head.
“You need to sit back down,” Aurie was back at his side. “I’ll let the guards know to tell Maud you’ve woken up.” Over her shoulder, “And I’ll see if they can bring you news about Adrian as well.”
“Thank you,” Isabella was sunken as she went back to her chair. “And my youngest? Can you see if they would be brought to me, too?”
Draka sat back down on his bed. He eyed Jasmine as she went to her mother as cautiously as a mouse moving across a room under the gaze of a lounging feline.
“I’ll ask,” Aurie was at the door. She knocked and whispered through the thin crack when it was opened after a rattle of keys turned a lock.
“Can he really do that to us?” Jasmine knelt beside Isabella and whispered, barely loud enough for Draka to hear.
Isabella gave her a mother’s sharpest glare, “He’s the Grand Master of the Order of Holy Sepulcher and the only Paladinate King, of course he can do that. I should have known better than to bring you instead of your brother. We will discuss this further at a later time. You will learn your place.”
“They’re sending word now,” Aurie sat beside Draka again, a comforting hand on his lap. “She’s been waiting to hear that you recovered.”
“My place is as commander of my knights,” Jasmine was no longer whispering, “And I command them as I see fit.”
Isabella didn’t hesitate to stand and bring the back of her hand across the girl’s face hard enough that the clap made Draka and Aurie turn to see her head whipped sideways. Jasmine had a hand to her cheek, gaping.
“Even I know better than to disrespect a Paladin and their authority! A Queen is one thing, a Paladin is another,” Isabella jabbed a finger at her daughter, “There are few things that Draka will never bend to and that happens to be one of them.”
Aurie gasped, nearly jumping to her feet if Draka hadn’t stopped her.
Isabella grabbed Jasmine by a fistful of her hair with a jerk that arched her neck. “You ever endanger our empire with such foolishness again and I will have you whipped like the child you are!” Isabella threw Jasmine to her knees in front of her. “Press me further, you’ve embarrassed us already. Might as well show further contempt so I’ve the opportunity to prove my resolve to our allies.”
Jasmine turned herself on her knees to bow towards her mother in a way that hid her face behind the long, disheveled strands of hair. Weeping and sniveling, she said, “I’m sorry, mother, it won’t happen again.”
“Good,” Isabella lifted her chin, looming over her with downcast eyes. After a moment of listening to her daughter’s hushed crying, she looked up to Draka and Aurie. A glimpse of regret flowed through her expressions only to be stifled with a stoic straightening of her neck, “Our support will be unconditional henceforth and my daughter’s conduct will be exemplary and becoming as an officer and noble representing the House of Taggerty and Ibin Raham and the Empire of Anatolia.”
Aurie was still gaping. Draka nodded, hiding his concern. He didn’t like it either. Isabella had become…someone else since he last saw her. He wondered if she realized how severe that change was until he saw her ease herself back into her chair with hands that were shaking and a distant look in her eyes beneath furrowed brows.
