Figurehead

forty-three

Pain.

From what I can feel, I must be completely covered in bruises and slathered all over with poultices. My left shin feels like it's been tied tightly and it burns a little. My whole body burns a little as throbbing pulses beneath my skin. It's difficult to tell, what with the poultices coating my skin, but from what I can feel, I'm only wearing a torso wrap and loincloth beneath a sheet or two. I'm on a bed, not just a pallet.

My eyes flick open and then squeeze shut, having seen nothing but light.

At least I'm not dead. Thanks, Lord.

These are my only two thoughts. I pry my eyes open, blinking to adjust to the dim light filling the room and flooding my vision. Firelight.

I flex my fingers and toes. Can I sit up? I grunt when I try and I blow out a breath, closing my eyes. No. Not without help. I hear a noise and I hold my breath, listening. Breathing. Not mine. Even breathing.

Can I roll onto my side? Bad idea. Very bad idea. An involuntary groan slips through my lips and I open my eyes again. How long have I been asleep this time? How many more times will I wake up, wondering the same thing?

In my peripheral vision, I can see a figure in a chair on my left, and my pulse spikes. Is it- am I in his room? In his bed? I turn my head and my breath catches. Dein sits in an awkward position in a chair, his knees pushed up to the side of the bed, he's sitting so close. He's asleep, head leaned against the back of the chair. His neck will be sore when he wakes.

My pulse unsteady, I reach out with my right and nudge one of his knees. Nothing. It's selfish of me to wake him, I know, but he'd want me to. Not to mention I have no idea what time it is- past high night, I can only assume- or how long I've slept. The air is cool, but comfortably so. It will be Flei soon, after all.

I nudge his knee again and this time he stirs enough for one of his hands to try and brush mine away. I take hold of it and entwine my fingers with his, squeezing.

I try to speak, but it comes out rasping, so I clear my throat and try again. "Dein," I whisper. I tug at his hand. "Dein," I say, louder this time. I tug on his hand, harder this time, and it jolts him a little. I almost laugh; if I tug really hard, he could fall off the chair, since he's already leaning to the side.

Then his fingers twitch in mine and he shifts in his seat with a sigh of a groan before his eyes flutter open and he starts, his hand tightening on mine. He looks stunned. Speechless. His eyes are beautiful and full and difficult to read because of how much they hold. "Hey." It comes out as a whisper and I force myself to breathe.

"Janf.." He puts his other hand on top of mine, running his fingertips over it, and I smile. He manages to smile back, a real and genuine smile with a hint of a grin. His smile fades. "You almost died."

I release a sigh. "How long have I slept?"

"Over a day." I raise my eyebrows. That's barely anything. He sighs, offering a smile tinged with sheepishness. "I only let Ret give you a tiny sliver of krufid leaf."

"My family?" I ask.

"They're fine. Unharmed." He pauses. "Terrified for you."

I close my eyes and release a sigh. I'm relieved, of course, but I wonder what they must have been thinking. "What happened?" I murmur. I hesitate. "What happened to the attackers?" Did I kill anyone? is what I really mean, and he knows it.

"Well, the guards had heard yelling and screaming, and they ran out of the palace with some healers." He pauses. "They dragged the attackers into the palace first because you were further away. I saw Preu unconscious, and Tio cursed at me." He squeezes my hand, voice strained as he continues. "It had to be you so I ran. I ran." He takes an unsteady breath and I open my eyes to meet his. "The guards were a mess, trying to get the other two attackers back to the palace, trying to help the healers. Your kin were panicking over you, afraid of touching or moving you."