A Court of Stars and Memories

58. A Heart's Confession

"You...what?" Mitsi breathed, unable to believe what she'd heard. There was nothing but sincerity written on Lysander's stricken features, though he didn't speak again. "Lys...why? What did you do?" Mitsi stroked her hand over his other cheek, wiping off some of the bloody fingerprints.

He turned his face away and simply shook his head. "I'll be fine. Just go."

"I'm not leaving," Mitsi answered firmly. "Show me."

"I'll be fine," he repeated. "Please, Mitsi. I want to be alone."

"I'm not leaving you alone. Not like this." Mitsi inched closer still. Lysander didn't move. She rested a hand on one of his wings. When he didn't protest, she carefully tugged it aside.

Lysander's trembling worsened when she touched his other wing. "Mitsi, please," he whispered.

"I used to volunteer at hospitals. I've seen all sorts of injuries," Mitsi reminded him. "Yours will be no different. But I need to see them to know how best to take care of them."

"You don't need to. I have an Illyrian's quick healing abilities. I'll be fine by tomorrow."

"But you're not fine now." The fact was grating against her. She had to do something to relieve her instincts. She had to do something to help him. "You won't stop me, Lys. I want to help you."

Lysander was silent again as she moved his other wing. Mitsi's breath caught and horror washed through her. His knees were drawn to his chest, but she could see the fresh wounds between his legs. A bloody dagger was still clutched in his hands, and when he shifted his arm, it left a smear of blood on his knees. Mitsi let out a sharp breath and pushed herself onto her knees.

Lysander didn't stop her when she pried the dagger from his grasp and threw it aside. When she touched his arm however, he twisted away. "Let me see," Mitsi urged.

"I..." Lysander's throat bobbed and shame flooded his features. "I don't want you to."

"I know," she murmured. Her fingers caressed his jaw, bringing his gaze to hers once again. "But I want to help you. You don't have to hide from me. You don't have to be ashamed. If you don't want to tell me what happened, don't, but please let me help you."

Tears welled in the corners of his eyes and Lysander squeezed them shut. Sorrow panged through her chest and for a moment, Mitsi just watched him, granting him time to collect himself. He trembled with each breath he drew, but gradually, his features relaxed. Mitsi touched his arm again, and this time, he allowed it.

Mitsi's breath hitched as she caught sight of the numerous markings cut into his bronze skin, the words made visible by blood. She moved his other arm and found it matching. Mitsi swallowed, resting a hand on his knee. "Let me see your legs."

For several minutes, Lysander just sat there. Then, he obeyed and shifted his legs, allowing her to see the full extent of his injuries. Mitsi kept her gaze on the wounds, ignoring everything else. Her sorrow grew as she realized that those particular wounds were stacked on top of old scars, each of them spelling out the same words. Your fault.

"How long have you been doing this?" Mitsi asked.

"I don't know," Lysander mumbled. "Over a century. Sometimes frequently, sometimes not for months."