King of Blood

Chapter 34 - Lyanna

The kitchen was quiet now, the once bustling energy replaced with a heavy stillness. Lyanna stood by the table, her fingers gently brushing over Jehovah's hand as he slept. His breathing was steady but shallow, his chest rising and falling with each strained breath. His face, now cleaned and stitched, looked pale and worn, the gash over his eye a stark reminder of Aleksander's cruelty.

Annette moved softly around the room, tidying the remnants of their chaotic effort to save Jehovah. Lacy, hovering uncertainly near the counter, fidgeted with her apron, her wide eyes darting between Jehovah and the older seer.

"Lacy," Annette said gently, her voice low. "It's late. Go to bed."

The pixie hesitated, her ears twitching nervously. She glanced at Lyanna, who gave her a small nod.

"Go," Lyanna said softly. "It's alright."

With a faint, apologetic smile, Lacy nodded and slipped out of the room, her tiny frame disappearing into the shadows of the corridor.

Lyanna turned back to Jehovah, her thumb tracing idle patterns on the back of his hand. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely audible.

Annette, standing near the hearth, paused and turned to her. "I didn't do much," she said simply.

"You did more than you had to," Lyanna replied, meeting her eyes. "I'll stay with him. You should rest."

Annette studied her for a long moment, her stern face softening with a sadness that made Lyanna's chest ache. "You've both been through more than anyone should," she said quietly. "I hope you find your way out of this."

Lyanna looked away, unable to hold her gaze. "Goodnight, Annette," she said softly.

Annette nodded, turning toward the door. "Goodnight, Lyanna. Naida." She glanced briefly at the alchemist, her expression unreadable, before disappearing into the hall.

Lyanna sighed, her fingers brushing through Jehovah's hair briefly before she stepped away. She turned to find Naida sitting at the smaller table, two steaming mugs of tea set before her.

"Do you doubt my skills?" Naida asked, her voice teasing despite the exhaustion in her tone.

Lyanna allowed herself a faint smile. "Never," she said, crossing the room to join her. "Your skills have saved my ass more times than I can count."

The tea was hot and slightly bitter, the faint scent of herbs rising from the cup. Lyanna took a sip, savouring the warmth as it spread through her chest. She studied Naida's face in the dim light, her stomach twisting at the sight of the dark bruise marring her friend's cheekbone.

"What did he do to you?" Lyanna asked softly, her voice trembling slightly.

Naida raised a brow, leaning back in her chair. "Aleksander? Nothing I couldn't handle," she said lightly, brushing her fingers over the bruise as if to dismiss it.

Lyanna frowned. "Naida..."

"It's not that bad," Naida interrupted, her tone firm but gentle. She sighed, setting her cup down. "He roughed me up a bit, that's all. He was trying to find out where you'd gone."

Lyanna's throat tightened, guilt and anger warring within her. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Naida waved her off. "Don't be. It's not your fault he's a sadistic bastard." She hesitated, her expression darkening. "He found the invitation in Jehovah's pocket. That's when he stopped asking questions."

Lyanna stiffened, the weight of the revelation settling heavily on her shoulders. "The invitation," she murmured, her voice barely audible.

Naida nodded, her eyes narrowing. "He knew exactly where to look. He knew exactly where to go."

The words hung in the air between them, heavy and damning. Lyanna stared into her tea, her reflection distorted by the ripples.

"I shouldn't have let him get involved," she said finally, her voice hollow. "Jehovah should never have been dragged into this."

Naida reached across the table, her hand resting over Lyanna's. "He's here because he chose to be. In a weird way," she said firmly. "Don't take that away from him."

Lyanna looked up, meeting her friend's gaze. For a moment, the weight of everything seemed to ease, the warmth of Naida's support a balm to her battered soul.

"Thank you," she said softly.

Naida smiled faintly, squeezing her hand before pulling back. "Finish your tea," she said, her tone lightening. "You'll need the strength."

Lyanna nodded, lifting the mug to her lips. As she drank, her eyes flicked back to Jehovah, his figure still and fragile on the table.

"By the way," she began as she swallowed. "Jehovah's friend is waiting at your place."

"What?" Naida asked, her brow furrowing slightly as she took a sip of her tea.

Lyanna shrugged her expression apologetic. "I didn't know where else to send him," she apologised. "I told him to wait for you. He needs shelter. He's renounced the court like Jehovah, and he's agreed to work with us."

Naida's expression shifted, a flicker of concern crossing her features. "Another Seelie? Are you sure about this, Lyanna? I know you trust him, but bringing another one of them into this... it's risky."

"I know," Lyanna replied softly, her gaze dropping to the table. "But what choice do we have? He's in danger too, and if we want to make this as tolerable as possible, we him. Besides, if anything happened to him, I think that would be the last staw for him." Her gaze flicked over to Jehovah who still slept peacefully on the table.

Naida sighed, her reluctance evident. "I'm not exactly thrilled about it, but I can see no way around it. If he's clean and doesn't argue with me, then we'll make it work. For now."

With that, they finished their drinks in companionable silence. The weight of their conversation hung in the air, a mixture of hope and uncertainty that neither of them could shake. After a moment, Lyanna stood, gathering the empty mugs. "I'll wash these up," she said, moving toward the basin.

Naida watched her for a moment before rising to join her, but Lyanna waved her off. "Really, it's fine. You should get some rest. You've been through hell."

"So have you." She ignored her, not wanting to discuss the topic any further.

As Lyanna washed the mugs, she felt Naida's presence linger nearby. Suddenly, the kitchen was filled with warmth when Naida wrapped her arms around Lyanna in a tight hug. The embrace was unexpected but comforting, and Lyanna closed her eyes, allowing herself to sink into the moment.

"Stay strong, Lyanna," Naida whispered, her voice steady. "Don't let the bastard win. Never let him win."

Lyanna nodded, her heart swelling with gratitude for the unwavering support of her friend. "I'll make his life hell," she promised with a choked smile, pulling away after a long moment.

Seeing the determination in her eyes, Naida smiled softly. "I'll be back in the morning, first thing. We'll go from there."

"Thank you, Naida," Lyanna said, her voice filled with warmth.

With a final squeeze of her hand, Naida stepped back and left the kitchen, leaving Lyanna alone in the quiet space. The clatter of dishes faded, and she took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders.

As she finished washing the mugs, her thoughts drifted to Jehovah, man who had given everything for her. She could still feel the warmth of his presence, the strength he exuded even when faced with danger.

After drying the last mug, Lyanna made her way to the small sitting area in the kitchen, where she could rest for a moment. She sank into a chair, her exhaustion catching up with her.

Without thinking, she leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes. The warmth of the kitchen enveloped her, and she let herself drift, remembering the strength and resilience they were fighting for. In that moment of solitude, she felt a sense of peace wash over her, knowing she wasn't alone in this fight.

As she leaned against the wall, the weight of her worries eased, and slowly, she allowed herself to succumb to sleep, her thoughts filled with the dead of the coming days.