first thing he took note of was Mark and Laina Nerrow. They stood off to one side, and he couldn’t remember the last time he had seen two people so visibly upset. The baron’s face was red, and his hands were balled into tight fists. Laina was vomiting into one of her mother’s topiaries.
Will turned to face his father-in-law. “Are we done?” His throat felt ragged when he spoke, and he realized he had probably been screaming. As he moved, he felt the skin on his back shift oddly and something flapped, as though he wore a shirt that had been badly torn. Was that my skin? He glanced down and saw blood soaking into his trousers. Waves of agony washed over him, and he fought to keep his eyes focused on Lognion.
“You must not have heard me,” said the king. “But then I suppose that can be forgiven, given what you’ve been through. I’ve never seen anyone react to a flogging in quite such a stoic manner. It was impressive, though you took some of the joy from my task. I offered to have my private physician treat you. I may have outdone myself. I believe you’ll need professional assistance to avoid permanent injury.”
“I don’t want anything from you,” said Will hoarsely. “I already have the only thing of value you’ve ever possessed—Selene.”
Mark Nerrow stepped forward. “We’ll take care of him, Your Majesty.”
Lognion studied the baron for a few seconds. “Yes, I’m sure you will. You’ve always lived up to your responsibilities, haven’t you, Mark?”
The baron lowered his eyes, but Will could see his father was fighting to swallow his anger.
The king turned away to head back into the house. “My offer stands. If you need help, bring him to the palace.” He gathered his soldiers and left while Agnes returned to the atrium to check on Will and her family.
Laina’s mother nearly fainted when she saw the tattered skin hanging from Will’s back in ribbons. “Mark, we need to take him to the college. Only Doctor Morris will be capable of treating something as bad as this. How could you let him do such a thing?”
“Because he’s the godsdamned king!” swore Mark Nerrow angrily. “He’s sick! I had to stand there and watch him do it! It wasn’t even a flogging. It looked like he was trying to flay the skin from his back.”
Meanwhile Will had already summoned his last regeneration potion. In less than two hours he had used both of his remaining treasures and they wouldn’t be easily replaced. A thousand gold down my throat, he thought as he swallowed. Another wave of dizziness hit him, and he swayed. Mark and Agnes both started toward him, but Laina reached him first, slipping her shoulder beneath his arm before he fell.
The act of lifting his arm shifted the skin of his back and sent fire blazing along his nerves. Will found himself leaning heavily on the younger woman. I’m getting blood all over her dress, he realized. “That will be hard to wash out, but I have a spell that will do the trick,” he commented blearily. His body was beginning to itch intensely as the regeneration potion started its work.
Will stumbled along and eventually he opened his eyes and found himself lying across a large bed. Voices were arguing in the hall behind him. “Why’d you put him in there? You should have taken him to the guest room.” That was Mark Nerrow’s voice.
“He was about to pass out. I couldn’t carry him. If you want to try, you can carry him down the hall, but he’s already bled all over the bed. There’s no sense in ruining two sets of bedding,” Laina responded sharply.
“Is he still here?” asked another young woman’s voice, probably his younger sister, Tabitha.
“What are you doing out of your room? I told you to stay there,” snapped their mother.
Mark interrupted, “Let me by. I’m going to move him. We can’t have him in Laina’s room.”
“For the sake of all that’s holy, Mark, leave him be!” snapped Agnes. “He’s had enough.”
“That potion he took healed his wounds,” said the baron. “It won’t hurt him. He’s just exhausted.”