Perfect Flaws

41. Strangers In Blood

(TW: mentions of death and suicidal thoughts)

Rhea

Streams of light peaks through my vision as I blink my eyes open. A throbbing pain aches at the back of my head. 

I lift myself up, leaning on my elbows. An older man, maybe in his mid forties enters the room. Shock lifts his eyebrows as he stares at me. Within seconds, he dips, bowing before me. 

The glass of water in his hand stays perfectly level as he lifts himself back up. "Your majesty, how are you feeling?" 

I smile warmly at him. "I'm quite alright, thank you." 

"Is everything okay?" Concern is laced in his features, a frown forming, "When we brought you here, you were bleeding out," he lifts his hand to his head, "the back of your head had a lot of blood." 

I must've hit my head when I fell. 

I nod curtly, "Everything is fine, no need to worry." 

He nods, unsure. 

I watch his eyes looks down to the glass in his hand, he walks over, setting the glass on the nightstand beside me. "Here is some water, I'm sure you're thirsty, you've been out for two days." 

I snap my head up to him, "Two days?" 

He nods, sighing, "we were all worried, but it seems you've rested well." 

"The men?" I blurt. "The men I came with? Where are they?" 

He stares at me, "In the kitchen." 

He looks around the room, suddenly shy, "Our home isn't as nice as your estate, your majesty, but I hope you treat it as your own, we are all at your service." 

I smile, "it's lovely," I look down, running my fingers over the homemade quilt, "it's beautiful." 

"My wife," he smiles at the thought of her, "she made it years ago." 

I lift the blanket carefully, beginning to stand up. The man looks at me in horror, "Your majesty, you should be careful, it's only been two days!" 

I shake my head, "Two days is plenty, do you mind showing me to your kitchen?" 

He hesitates, staring at me like I'm insane despite his kindness. 

"Right this way," he hurries off, into the hall. 

I follow him into a hallway, small frames of his family lined on the walls. Creaky floorboards tremble under our weight. 

Just ahead, I see a simple and dim lit kitchen. A dining table off the the side, three figures sit in the chairs like kings. 

Plates of food in front of them, and smiles on their faces. Except for Elijah. 

I look over and see two girls, just a year or two under me, staring at them, blushing and giggling. 

They're making conversation with the boys, flirting even. 

I look at Elijah and almost burst out laughing. 

He's glaring at them, completely uninterested. 

I take the time to look at him. Really look at him. 

His sharp features, his strands of hair falling forward as he looks down at his food, analyzing it. He's in a dark gray t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. He's too tall for the clothes, they're a bit tight, showing the muscles and details his skin hides. 

Blue eyes of azure completely focused. His forearms flexing under the lights. 

He's perfectly unfair.