Figurehead

forty-five

"Janf. Seriously. Janf."

It takes a while before I force my eyes open, having realised someone has been saying my name over and over. I release an involuntary groan when I try and sit up. I'd momentarily forgotten about the bruises and poultices covering my body.

Sret stands over me, the look of excitement in her eyes fading a little as her eyebrows crease in concern. "What time is it?" I mumble, wiping sleep from my eyes.

She hesitates. "High night."

I groan. "What is it?" I glance across the room. Dein's pallet is empty, and I furrow my eyebrows. "What's going on?"

Her smile returns. "You and the king will be bound."

I blink at her. "Well, yeah."

She rolls her eyes, blowing out a breath. "Get up. Go to the washroom."

"Why? It's high night."

She sighs loudly. "You're going to the Sancta."

I suppress a yawn, still blinking sleep from my eyes. "At high night?" I ask flatly. I sigh. "What are you doing?" She's taken my hands and is tugging on them. I wince as she accidentally tugs too hard and my torso shifts. I free my hands.

She bites her lip. "Sorry. Can you get up?"

"I don't want to," I mumble.

She takes my sheet and pelt away, and I grit my teeth. She arches her eyebrows. "Your tied is busy. If he were trying to make you get up, you wouldn't be in such a bad mood."

"He wouldn't be trying to get me up at high night," I counter.

She shrugs. "Maybe." She glances at his empty pallet. "I made him get up, though." She crosses her arms. "He wasn't complaining anywhere near as much as you are."

"Well, did you explain why he had to get up?" I ask, running a hand down my face. It's colder without a sheet and pelt, but I'm alright.

Sret pauses. "Sort of."

I sigh. "Will you 'sort of' explain to me?"

She shakes her head. "No." She throws my sheet and pelt onto Dein's vacant pallet. "So get up and go to the washroom." She leaves, and I hear the doors thud behind her.

It takes me a while, but I manage to get out of bed, wincing with each movement of my torso. I take hold of the staff leaned against the chest of drawers and pull myself up to standing position. What in the lands my sister was doing, I don't know, but I won't be going back to sleep any time soon.

It takes longer for me to get to the washroom, but on the way, I notice I'm surrounded by silence and absence. There's no one in the room Tui and my kin were staying in. The firepit in there is empty. The firepit in the front room is bright and burning, more than it would be if it hadn't been recently re-lit.

This is.. Strange. Since I came here less than a week ago, after the battle, Dein's rooms have never been so.. Vacant.

The basin in the washroom is full of water, the fire beside it burning as brightly as the one in the front room. There is a folded, neat pile of clothes on the bench next to a lantern containing two flames. Clothes I don't recognise. On top of the pile is a tiny scrap of parchment.

Apparently, these are for you, it says in Dein's writing. I don't know what they look like because I wasn't allowed to look. But I'll see you later.

I raise an eyebrow at the message. Strange.

My Lord, what in the lands is happening?

Why is it I can imagine He is amused at my frustration? Maybe it's just my imagination.