The Rebel Assassin

Chapter 34: Stand Tall

Nemia spent the night with me. The sharp contrast between the sleepovers we used to have — staying up too late talking and laughing, falling asleep and waking up tangled together — and my hazy, numb memories of last night was almost painful.

So I woke up and didn't bother to move except to bury my head in my pillow.

Nemia had other ideas. I felt the mattress shift with her weight as she scrambled to sit up and shook my shoulder insistently. My uninjured shoulder. The other throbbed beneath new bandages. "I know you're awake. Get up."

I mumbled something about god-awful sunlight and rude ways to treat a war hero, and she laughed.

"You must be better. Get up. Washing will help even more."

I didn't feel any better. The idea of getting out of bed exhausted me. I didn't respond when she shook my shoulder again, or when she climbed over me to get out of bed.

"Morie, look at me." She knelt on the floor to my eye-level. I was all too aware of how soft her sleep-mussed hair looked, and the way her smile faded as she looked at me. I could tell from her face that I looked about as well as I felt. That made the burning shame in my throat rise up again.

I squeezed my eyes shut against tears.

Iso had captured me, hurt me, deprived me of sleep until I repeated his slimy words back to him, and it had worked. He'd gotten everything he wanted, hadn't he? He'd taken my Mark, left me weak and worn out and dependent. I hated him so much it hurt, and I hated myself for having done nothing to stop it.

I hadn't escaped, hadn't even had the strength to fight back when they dragged me through the snow to that doorway. Was I some untrained girl who couldn't fend for myself, or was I the Assassin?

We will send your empty shell back.

Every one of Iso's words before Medea had cut out my Mark were scored into my mind. I felt the shaking start and couldn't stop it, clutching the blankets so hard my fingers ached.

Nemia pressed one hand on my back, the other stroking my hair. "Breathe. It's okay." She paused a moment to wipe a tear off my cheek, and went back to stroking. "Shh." She breathed deep for me, letting the pattern guide mine until I found myself breathing easier.

I couldn't look at her. Not like this.

She let us sink into the silence for a few minutes, tracing circles on my back. Before I could fall back asleep, she said, "Come on, get up."

"Later."

"No. Look at me."

When I didn't, she turned my chin toward her with cool fingers. "You can get back in after washing your face, but I need you to get up. Walk around a little."

"I don't want to see anyone."

"You don't have to."

Her promise didn't mean anything. She was here to see all my weakness. And the others had seen it last night. They'd heard me saythose things. Wrapped me in blankets and supported me up the stairs to bed. Argued about who should stay with me until Nemia pushed them all out and curled up next to me. I had already been humiliated. All I wanted to do now was go back to sleep.

Her face was pinched with worry, which just made it worse. Nemia was supposed to worry about me climbing too high, getting bruised and battered in the training yards, offending the wrong people. It was never supposed to be anything serious. She was never supposed to see me like this. No one was.

"Please, Morie."

"I'm just tired. I need another hour."

"It's the afternoon."