Fantasy of Frost (The Tainted Accords Book 1) (17 page)

My cheeks heat furiously with embarrassment and a bit of anger. I wish the veil was down.

“You are referring to the night when you broke down my door and assaulted me. I am not seeing how you are different from the thugs of last night.” I know the comment is unfair, but there is no way he will see me naked for a second time.

He appears taken aback by my words. “I’m not like those men. That night was a …rare loss of control. Now I’m here to help you. You could not walk up the stairs by yourself, and you lost consciousness only moments before. You truly think you can care for yourself?”

“Perhaps not, but I will also not have to listen to your lectures.” I am seconds away from forcing my battered body to try and attack him. He is infuriating. A smile jerks at his lips. I want to scream.

He walks away and I celebrate, thinking he is leaving.

“I can see you have already tried to care for yourself.” He walks back. “Where else are you injured apart from your ribs and face?”

“My lower back. Everywhere hurts, but that and the ribs are the worst.”

Weariness is creeping over me. I close my left eye.

“I will be back in a moment.”

“I can’t wait.” I breathe.

“Don’t sleep,” a voice booms, rousing me. I groan and mumble in response, then shriek as something cold is placed on my face. I crack my left eye open and I glare up at the King. His expression is blank. Suspiciously so. The cold seeps into the right side of my face and this time my groan is one of relief.

“What is it?” I ask, rolling slowly towards him.

“Snow pack,” he says. Before I can object he reaches under the front of my tunic and places another pack of snow over my ribs and then another beneath me before he rolls me back onto it. The snow numbs the pain over my body. A sigh leaves me as the throbbing heat dissipates for now.

Jovan pushes the sleeve of my tunic up my arm and begins washing out the wounds, not making a sound. My body is so bereft of energy, I don’t think I could move even if the thugs rushed in the door again. He rubs a strong smelling salve over the injured skin and wraps each wound. He moves to the other arm and then rolls my trouser legs high, to my embarrassment, and repeats the same process. By the time he is finished with the first leg, I have forgotten my embarrassment. His touch is impersonal and efficient. It reminds me of how I would clean the children in the orphanage. The thought is vaguely insulting. He looks relaxed as he works.

“I will need to get to your shoulders, stomach and back,” he says.

My vows are long forgotten. I pull the bottom of my tunic upwards, so the bottom part of my ribs are exposed. The King sucks in another breath. I’m too tired to speak, but I make a questioning sound. He looks at me, his face closed down.

He removes the snow pack again and warns me before he gently prods at my ribs. I clamp my mouth shut to keep the screams inside. “Our father died from a rib penetrating his lung.” After an eternity, he stops. “I have no training in this. I only know from my own injuries and…my father’s. I think most are just bruised, although these two in the middle seem worse than the others, they are maybe cracked. You’re alive after many hours though, I assume you will live,” he says

“Oh, good,” I say, my voice dry and rasping. Amusement flashes in his eyes.

He rubs a different salve over my ribs. “I need to do your back.”

“Please turn around,” I say, struggling to keep my eye open. He hesitates a moment before he does as I ask. Someone doesn’t like being told what to do.

I sit up like I’m thirty revolutions old and pull my tunic off. I shift in several increments onto my stomach and murmur when I am ready. He works on my back and even the pain as he moves over bruises cannot dim the relief of the salves he is applying.

“You are better than Rhone,” I say, half asleep. Rhone had only given me ice. I would have to tell him about this salve.

Jovan’s hands stop, though they still rest on my skin. I complain when he stops for too long and he resumes rubbing the salve over me.

“It was a low blow to kick you here,” he says, clearing his throat.

I mumble my agreement. “How did your father’s ribs break?” I ask.

The King draws a fur up over my back. The mattress dips as he sits back on the edge. I wonder if he heard my question.

“Overturned sled,” he mutters. There is clunking and sloshing as he collects up the various bits he has just used.

“I cannot keep my eyes open any longer.” I sigh in apology.

“Sleep now. I will come back to check on you when I can.”

“Thank you, Kedrick,” I say and fall into blessed sleep at once.

True to his word, the King comes to wake me several times during the day. Each time he brings snow packs and rubs more salve on my ribs and lower back. I push aside thoughts of how odd this situation is to think about later. My head feels much better the next day, though my ribs and lower back are just as bad. Every time I think of my actions the morning before, shame burns through me. What was I thinking, going to the food hall in that state? I wince at some of the things I said to King Jovan and decide to blame my head injury.

I’m still reeling a little at his patience and tending of the day before. It was a side to him I had not seen before. Threatening to kill me one moment and then nursing me back to health the next. Furious beyond reason, then smiling when I become angry. My headache starts up again. I quickly stop trying to figure out the mystery of Kedrick’s brother.

I get up, wash, and then dress in my last set of clean clothing. I add Pyope beads to the fire and then remember Kaura with a start. A quick search tells me her box is gone. I am seconds from a panic attack when I realise the King must have taken her.

I shake my head in bafflement. “Who has taken over King Jovan?”

The door crashes open as the person creating my bafflement strides in and slams the door shut behind him.

Anger surges. “What if I were dressing or washing?” I ask, glaring up at him. There is a screen blocking off the chamber pot and basin, but it is still horribly rude.

“You’re not though,” he states. I turn my head away with a shake and roll of my eyes.

“You roll your eyes a lot.”

How did he? I start, and reach a hand up to check my veil only to find it is not there.

I look over to the bed in shock and then back to him. He watches me, head tilted to the side.

“Your veil is over there, I can see it,” he says.

My head must be worse than I had anticipated. I struggle to gather my thoughts. “Thank you for yesterday,” I say. “I was not very well and would have been worse off if not for your assistance. I don’t know why I went downstairs. I was not thinking straight.”

He snorts. “I think the words you’re looking for are foolish and idiotic.” I frown at his poor manners. “But don’t worry. We all do stupid things when we are concussed. I once had double vision and tried to punch the person’s image instead of them.”

I smile a little, but my eyes keep darting back to my veil.

“Do you want me to get it for you?” he asks. I wrench my eyes away from the veil to his face. I don’t like the way his eyes are taking in my thoughts. I hesitate and shake my head.

“No.” I look at the fire. “It’s just unsettling, I have never had it off for longer than a few moments and now I have had it off for a whole night and part of a day.” I poke at the beads.

“The Tatum has always made you wear the veil,” he says.

“Yes. I’m sure you heard me telling Cam that I don’t know why I wear it.”

And there it is. The closest I will come to asking him why he ordered me to keep the veil on. I look up at him and see an infinitesimal widening of his eyes before he shuts the expression off. His hand jerks. “I gather then that you have never seen your own face.” He fixes his attention on my face.

Should I try and bluff the answer from him. It would not work.

“No,” I say and sit forward. He knows what I want.

He sits back on the seat along the bed and stares through me. My heart pounds. Is this it?

He stands suddenly, cleaning his throat. “I have sent the members of the delegate on various errands over the next week. I expect you to stay in here for this time. I have placed four of my own guards on your door in the event the mercenaries should revisit. You can be assured that they’re well trained.”

“I feel much better today. I should be fine to leave my quarters by tomorrow,” I say, my voice wavers once. It is the only hint of my devastation at his decision to stay silent.

“Do you ever do as you are told?” he asks. I ignore his question as he has ignored mine.

“Where is Kaura?” I ask.

“I have been looking after the dog. I will bring her down tonight.” He starts towards the door. “You know, you are spoiling her by letting her stay in here.”

I just glare in response. He grins and leaves the room, making me jump again as he slams the door shut.

I sleep all day and rub more salve on my back and ribs when I awaken to the dark room. I would kill for a snow pack or three. I smile and feel one of the splits on my lip reopen.

The door crashes open and I jump, clutching at my ribs.

“Veni! Can you stop doing that?” I shout.

The King looks amused. “No.”

I forget my anger when I see he holds some snow packs underneath Kaura’s box. I hold out my hands for them. He raises an eyebrow and passes them to me. I put one to my lower back and one to my ribs and lean my head back with a groan, placing the last on the side of my face, over the jaw.

When I tilt my head to look at the King, I find him watching me with dark eyes.

“You are looking much better. Your eyes are better and the swelling on your face is much… better,” he says. My veil is still off. It hurts too much with it on.

I snigger. “I thought you despised lying. I know I look awful, King Jovan. You don’t need to be nice, it is not your forte.”

He looks offended for a few seconds before he chuckles, running a hand through his short light brown hair. “I thought I would give it a try.”

Kaura pops her head up at the sounds of our voices. She whines and the King picks her up by the scruff of the neck and drops her on the bed. She inches closer to me as though sensing I am hurt.

“I’m alright. Come and see.” She comes closer and trips over her feet. I giggle and look at the King.

“Sometimes she trips over her puppy feet,” I say.

The King’s laughter echoes through the room. It is a surprised sound, as though it has been dragged out of him. I had not intended for my comment to be funny at all, but the deep sound of his laughter is contagious and makes me smile, too.

“I think the word you want is paws. Puppies have paws,” he says.

“What do dogs have then?” I ask, scratching her belly causing her to kick one leg ferociously in appreciation.

“They also have paws.” 

“Huh, okay,” I say, watching as she wiggles around on the bed. I giggle at her play. It’s like she is telling me the story of the last couple of days.

“Thank you for looking after her,” I say, looking up. He is watching me again, but shifts his gaze from mine quickly, expression blank.

You’re welcome,” he says stiffly, taking a step back. “I will get the guards to collect you snow packs over the next couple of days.” He scratches Kaura behind the ears, nods once to me and then leaves the room, slamming the door behind him. I shake my head at his odd behaviour.

I last for two days before I feel myself starting to go crazy. Being locked in reminds me of being in the tower. There are only so many times you can count the stone blocks on the ceiling. The only thing I have achieved during the last two days is a plan to ask Adnan about the wood of the arrow. I have even broken off a bit of the arrow and put it in my pocket. Searching Blaine’s room will have to wait until I’m better.

I put on my veil and pick up Kaura, deciding to take her outside for a while. The guards have been doing this for me.

I open the door.

“Does she need to be taken outside again, Tatuma?” one asks. These guards have been the most polite so far. The King must have instilled a healthy amount of fear in them.

“No, I am going to take her out,” I say.

The four guards share uneasy looks. “We were told that you were going to stay in your room all week,” the same guard spoke after a few moments.

I laugh. “I had been planning to, but just changed my mind. I’m going down with Kaura for a little while.”

I can tell they’re not fooled.

“Tatuma, it is just…the King himself had said you were going to stay in there,” the same one says, adding a small bow this time.

I begin walking down the hallway. “I am certain there has been some confusion, but perhaps while I’m out you could send someone to clarify your orders,” I say over my shoulder.

I go outside and stay out in the cold for a couple of hours, which I have not done once since arriving on Glacium. The snow packs have won me over and I find myself preferring the cold with all of my injuries.

Three guards watch me. Unfortunately they called my bluff and sent the fourth guard to the King. I feel a slight twinge at disobeying Jovan when he has helped me so much. But it is so slight, the next wall of sleet blows it away.

I’m just heading back in when I spot Adnan’s father standing with all four of my guards.

“Tatuma,” he greets. “I have come on behalf of the King to inquire why you are outside against his orders.” His voice is stern, but his eyes are amused. His back is to the guards, I gather the tone of his voice is more for their benefit than mine.

“Orders? I had thought it was more of a suggestion. There has been a misunderstanding it seems.” I nod to the fourth guard. “Thank you for clarifying his orders at my request.” He nods back. His face is pale. I wonder what the King did to him.

Adnan’s father chuckles at my manoeuvre.

I continue, “We have not been formally introduced, though Adnan has told me you are his father.”

“Yes, I own the title of Adnan’s father. You may call me Roscoe. It is a pleasure to meet you, Tatuma Olina.” He bows slightly. “You were on your way back inside. Might I join you?” He is very polite for a Bruma. I nod and we walk through the small side door, turning through several smaller halls which feed into the main hallway.