Page 37 of Shadow Queen
“Lay them both across the bed on their stomachs,” Norah ordered the soldiers. “And get another bed for the commander. They won’t be happy if they wake beside each other. Where’s the healer?”
“He’s on his way,” Serene said.
The soldiers brought in another bed and set it up along the opposite wall. They moved the commander to it.
The healer came and mixed a salve while Norah washed their backs. The cleansing would be painful, and she wanted to do it while they were still unconscious. When she was finished, she took the mixture from the healer and sat on the bed next to Alexander. She bit her lip as she spread the salve across his broken skin. She’d never forgive Mikael for this.
Alexander stirred.
“Be still,” she said softly. “I have only a little more to apply.”
He tried to turn his head back to look at her.
“I saidbe still.”
“I’m sorry,” he said faintly.
She drew in a shaking breath. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stop it.”
“Twelve men died because of me, some of them our own Northmen.” His voice cracked with guilt.
She set the bowl of salve down on the small bedside table. Men had died today. North and Kharavian men. All her men. “What caused this?”
His eyes settled on the commander on the other bed. “Only words, and they’re best left unsaid.”
“What words?”
He inhaled and let his breath out slowly. “I have to ask you—do you share the Shadow King’s bed now, Norah? Do you love this man?”
She tried to swallow, but her throat was dry. She couldn’t love a man who would do this. Because what did that make her?
The healer returned with a bowl of milky liquid. “Poppy,” he told her as he offered it. “This will take away the pain and make him… unaware. Sleepy.”
She took the bowl. “Drink this,” she said as she held it to his lips.
Alexander drank and lay his head back down on the bed.
“Rest now,” she whispered as she brushed her fingers through his golden locks. This man… If anything happened to him, if he was hurt—
She stopped. Somethinghadhappened to him, and hewashurt. Gods help Mikael when she left this room…
Within a few moments, she could see the fog roll into his eyes. They closed, and he fell into a deep sleep.
The commander was just waking as she walked over to him. The healer had almost finished coating the bleeding welts with the salve.
“I’ll do the rest,” she said, taking the bowl.
The healer motioned to another bowl on the table. “The poppy.”
She nodded. She looked back at the commander and stared at him for a moment, before cautiously taking a seat on the side of the bed. He said nothing. He didn’t snarl at her, and his eyes didn’t seem to will death in her direction. Had this broken him as it had her? Did he feel betrayed, as she did?
He lay in silence as she spread the mixture over the rest of his wounds. His skin was hot to the touch. “Your side required stitches,” she told him, “so don’t move about.” When she finished with the salve, she held the bowl of poppy for him, but he turned his head away.
“It’ll help with the pain,” she said.
“I want a clear head.”
“Well, you’re beyond that,” she snapped. Then she bit her lip. She’d wanted to take a different approach with him—a kinder approach. Maybe she shouldn’t care; he didn’t respond to kindness.
