Page 177 of North Queen
“You were attacked,” the Shadow King told her.
Attacked. Alexander’s rage returned, but Norah’s voice stopped him before he spoke.
“Is there water?” she asked.
The king’s eyes moved past Alexander, and Alexander turned to see a back table in the room, behind the Destroyer, where a pitcher and glass sat. The beast of a man still stood with his sword in hand, ready for a fight. Finally, he turned with a protesting rumble and poured the water. He eyed Alexander with dark contempt before reluctantly stepping to him and handing him the glass.
The king put an arm behind Norah and helped her sit up, sending a ripple of fire through Alexander. But he knelt beside her and held the water to her lips. She took a few gulps, coughing in between and wincing again in pain.
“Easy,” Alexander told her.
She took a few more sips, more careful this time. When she’d had her fill, the king laid her back against the pillows on the bed. Alexander held the glass back out to the Destroyer, who scowled at him murderously underneath his wrap. But he took the glass and set it back on the table.
“Who did this?” Alexander asked the king. He would kill them too.
The king was silent.
“Do you even have him?” he asked angrily. “The man responsible?”
“Of course we have him,” the king said defensively, finally speaking.
“Who is it?” he asked again.
“The brother of one of my previous wives.”
Previous wives?How does one have previous wives? His eyes blazed at the king.
“Avenging her honor, no doubt,” Norah said weakly. “Her family’s honor. They’ve been humiliated with the annulments.”
Annulments? The king had had other marriages? Alexander glared at him with an indicting fury. All of this was his fault—everything that had happened. He looked back to Norah. Her sympathy, her compassion, her understanding—they had always amazed him, even now, as she lay near death. But he couldn’t find compassion within himself for the attacker or this king.
“I want to speak to him,” she said. Her voice came at barely a whisper, yet it still managed to take them all aback.
“That’s not a wise idea,” the king said to her.
“He tried to kill you,” Alexander added to the argument. “What is there to say?”
Norah turned her head to the king. “I want to speak to him,” she said again.
“Your fever hasn’t even broken,” the king replied. “You need to rest and heal before you do anything.” As much as he hated it, Alexander nodded his agreement with him.
She swallowed, struggling with her words. “Promise me you’ll let me speak to him, that you won’t kill him.”
The Shadow King’s face remained hard and disapproving. “Rest,” he said, “and I give you my word I won’t kill him before you speak to him.”
Norah nodded faintly and leaned back, closing her eyes to sleep again.
Days fell away, and Norah finally found herself able to sit up without assistance. She didn’t remember the attack, and for once, she was appreciative. Her skin was healing, but an internal ache still lingered. She forewent the drink of herbs offered by the healer to relieve it. There was something between Alexander and the king, a new animosity, and she didn’t want the fog of pain medicines as she tried to understand what was happening.
Mikael sat with her often, not saying much, but his presence calmed her. He brought her books and anything else he could think of that might help her pass the time.
The cool air of morning hung around her as she sat in bed for yet another day. Vitalia brought a tray of breakfast as Mikael took what had become his regular place in the bedside chair.
“How is Salara-Mae?” she asked him.
He rocked his head back in slight surprise. “She’s been worried about you.”
Norah tried not to move as a chuckle escaped her.
