me even more. I whispered, “Kill me,” but no one seemed to have heard me.
“I will do nothing,” Aric said, “until—or unless—she craves blood.”
I shuddered.
“Leave her with me,” Gran said. “You shouldn’t be in this bed with her, holding her like that. She’s a girl of seventeen.”
“She’s a millennia-old Empress.”
“I should take care of her,” Gran insisted.
“You forget that this is my home, Tarasova. I will do as I please.”
I wondered why he hadn’t told her we were married. Aric hadn’t been shy in announcing that fact to Jack.
But that had been before I’d rejected Aric and his claim on me. Before I’d broken this man’s heart. . . .
17
My eyes darted behind my lids as I hovered between sleep and wakefulness. I was in a bed. I sensed plants all around me.
When the pain had finally dwindled to a manageable level, I cracked open my eyes. Could only make out a white blank.
Ah, God, why couldn’t I see? Would my sight return? I blinked over and over. Maybe I was turning, my eyes gone filmy?
No, some kind of brightness blazed down. Oh. The sunlamps. I was in the nursery.
Blurry images began to take shape. Why was there a bed down here? Vines and rose stalks traipsed over my body and the footboard.
Beneath the mass of green, I shifted my limbs, flexing my muscles. My arms and legs were weak and sore as hell, but healing.
I eased my head back. Aric sat up against the headboard, his eyes closed. Vines and rose stalks covered him as well.
In sleep, his brow furrowed, his lips thinned. He had golden stubble over his lean cheeks and dark circles under his eyes, looking older and more exhausted than I had ever seen him. He wore black pants and a thin dark sweater, but I could tell he’d lost weight.
How long had he been here with me? After our history, I was surprised he could tolerate the plants overrunning him.
Memory fragments from my recovery surfaced: his soothing words, his care, his updates about life around the castle. He’d challenged me to heal and stayed with me the entire time.
All around us, plants—even trees—merged to make walls. He’d chosen to remain inside my deadly green lair. I stretched my arm over him, savoring his warmth and strength.
His amber eyes blinked open. He found me staring at him, and his lips curved. “Sievā.” Pinpoints of light radiated from his spellbinding gaze.
“You’re okay with these plants?” I murmured, my throat scratchy.
His smile widened. “I’m thankful to them. They comforted you more than I could have.”
I didn’t know about that. “How long was I out?”
“For weeks.”
My jaw slackened. “That can’t be right.”
“Those Bagmen bit you more than a dozen times. Your legs were badly injured and you’d been shot. Your regeneration ability had much to contend with.”
I did remember landing feet first. “Will I . . . turn?”
“I do not believe that. You would have already.” Aric would never lie to me.
I relaxed somewhat. With a wave of my hand, I moved the vines off the bed, off him.
He appeared to relax a touch as well. “If someone had said a few of months ago that I would nod off while surrounded by the Empress’s vines, I’d have called him mad.” He reached for a glass of water on a tray. He helped me sit up and brought the cup to my lips. “Easy.”
I drank enough to quench the worst of my thirst. “The Emperor is planning to attack the castle. Soon.”
“I know. You told me. Happily, you led the Sun in the opposite direction of our home.”
Our home. “I did?” Totally meant to do that.
In a strange tone, he said, “Do you not remember any of the things we talked about on the journey here? Any of the things you told me?”
I cast my mind back. The whole time was a blur.
His gaze flicked over my face, reading my confusion. For some reason, he seemed to be closing down right in front of me. He straightened his shoulders, his demeanor growing distant and formal. “You must have many questions.”
A thousand. “Why weren’t we able to communicate with each other?” I vaguely remembered Aric touching on this, but not what he’d said. “I called and called for you.”
“The Fool disconnected everyone. I don’t know why. Perhaps to conceal some players from others. Or perhaps because he’d been weakened.”
In the days before abandoning me, Matthew had suffered nosebleeds and increased disorientation. Normally, I hated to think of him in pain.