The Promised Queen (Forgotten Empires #3)- Jeffe Kennedy Page 0,14

I tried plucking at the sheet with the twig fingers, and though they obeyed my intent, closing on the silk as they should, they lacked grip and the cloth slid away again. Lifting the hand to my cheek, I stroked my skin with the pointed end of one twig finger. It felt like exactly that: plant not human.

Deciding not to wrap my monstrous hand again, I lay there for a long time, staring unseeing at the shadowed ceiling, listening to the sounds of anguished life dying all over Calanthe. Feeling my own body die around me.

4

“How is She?” Sondra shot at me, leaping at me from the dim shadows of a sofa in the darkened outer chamber. With my bagiroca in one hand and rock hammer in the other, I nearly brained her. I still might.

“Why aren’t you asleep?” I asked, setting my weapons down. With all the frustration I’d concealed from Lia, I yanked the bell string that would summon Ibolya. Spying the silver coffeepot some thoughtful soul—probably also Ibolya—had left for us, I headed straight for it. Calanthe’s coffee couldn’t be beat, and I mixed a large mug with healthy portions of fresh cream and sweet honey.

“One thing about genteel imprisonment, there wasn’t much to do but eat and sleep,” Sondra said wryly. “I’m better off than most of you. The question is, why aren’t you still asleep?” By the light of the lanterns she’d begun lighting, I saw someone had indeed trimmed her hair, removing the awkward tufts and sculpting it to one length, but so short that it mostly stood on end. I supposed we couldn’t regret any of the choices that had gotten us safely out of Yekpehr, but the sight of Sondra with shorn hair reminded me of being back at Vurgmun, and—particularly after that gut-wrenching conversation with Lia—I couldn’t quite look at her. I took a bracing gulp of coffee, willing myself to wake up.

“I’m awake because Lia is. She wants to get up, but I’m hoping if we get some food into her, she’ll sleep some more.”

Sondra nodded but didn’t move. “But how is She?”

I added more honey, then more coffee. Clearly I needed more kick. “She’s weak and you know how she hates that. And she’s…” Depressed. In despair. “Sad.”

“No surprise there. You can’t expect a person to just bounce back from a trauma like that.”

“I didn’t say I thought she should.”

“You didn’t not say it—and you can be a prick that way, Conrí. You kind of do expect everyone to just soldier on, to get back up and fight even harder.”

I set my teeth. “Did you want something,” I asked as mildly as I could, which wasn’t very, “or were you just in the mood to kick me around?”

She grinned, briefly and toothily. “I’m always in the mood to kick your ass, Conrí, but no—I told Ibolya I’d keep an ear out for Her Highness in case She needed anything.”

“I was with Lia,” I replied, unreasonably irritated, “so there was no need to hover.”

Sondra eyed me. “Like I said, you’re not the most sensitive guy, Conrí.”

“I can be sensitive,” I snapped.

Sondra huffed out a sigh. “Don’t look like a kicked puppy. Sawehl knows you’re in bad shape yourself. Ibolya said you’ve barely slept since Cradysica. We were worried about you both, all right?”

“I’m fine. You’re the one who was imprisoned at Yekpehr. You can pretend it was genteel, but I know that had to have been hard on you.”

“I’m fine,” she retorted, mimicking me. “Let’s not compete for who’s more fucked up. Besides, I—” She broke off as the outer doors opened, admitting Ibolya, two servants with platters of food, and an excited Vesno.

The wolfhound bounded straight for me, and I crouched with open arms, bracing myself not to fall over at the impact of the wriggling mass of large—and thankfully clean—dog. “Hey boy, hey.” I laughed as he licked my face, spinning and twisting to get the best angles. At least someone was happy to see me around here. And wasn’t that a self-pitying thought.

“Vesno was terribly put out to be locked away from you, Conrí,” Ibolya said, a smile in her voice. “But he made for an effective alarm. I knew you must be up and about from his determination to get to you, even before I heard the bell.” Ibolya had dressed in a bright gown, though not in full court regalia. Not wearing a wig, she’d fixed her dark hair in loose waves decorated with fresh