Chapter 34

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"It's probably one of the infected," Haryek grumbles. 

"Or a survivor?" Reid takes a step towards the door, and I grab his wrist. 

"A survivor is probably infected." It pains me to say it but I've seen enough bloodshed today, I don't need to watch someone else die. I squeeze his wrist. "We really shouldn't open the door."

 Reid frowns and watches the large oak doors, sniffing lightly as if somehow he might be able to differentiate. Unfortunately for him, I wouldn't dare trust an unskilled nose. 

Everything in me says go to bed. "Come on." I gesture to him. 

Us and them

We go our separate ways, and I find myself trembling at the thought of being alone, knowing Corina could be out there just waiting for her opportunity. Surely tensions were high, would anyone within the castle walls have the wearwithall to hunt me down and kill me for what I'd done?

The walls of this manor aren't marble but intricately cut stone, carefully polished into soft corners as if the entire structure were to be a statue.  Despite my injuries, I shower and try not to sob too hysterically for fear that someone might hear me. Once more, we were at a loss despite seizing the day. With so many unaccounted for, dead, and bloated on the stretch of the courtyard, I find myself wondering if this tour was truly worth it.

 Closing my eyes, I sit on the floor of the shower, letting the hot water rush over me as I use what little remains of my magic to scorch the battle off of my skin. The cool tile feels almost painful against my bruised body, against the heat of the pyre I'd tied myself to with the scalding water.

When I can take it so long, when I finally feel something other than despair, I climb out and wrap a towel around myself in silent defeat. Glancing in the mirror, I look a wreck, and yet I still continue to find away to stay alive. My eyes were swollen and puffy, my lip busted, and my cheek was scratched and bruised; this was not the face of a future King. 

 I've pulled the curtains shut, so I can't look out and risk seeing a spot of gray in all the destruction. Second to that fear remained the concern that Corina would be there, watching me sleep. Tomorrow, we will have to figure out a way to clear out the infected, or maybe we will be holed up here for a few days until I can regain some strength.

The steam rolls out of the bathroom into the candlelight of the lanterns that bring a warm glow to this chilly night. My mind drifts to the thought of my warlord trapped in a tree, surrounded by the diseased creatures who will hunt him all night if he's on his own out there. Wrongfully, I hope he's captured, for that means I might just be able to see him again. 

Leaning my head back against the stone wall, tomorrow this will all be much more to bear, and yet today, all I want is sleep. Sliding into my silk robes provided by our gracious host before I'd gotten all of his friends killed, I sat on the edge of the bed and marveled at the overwhelming heat my body was managing to produce. My hands clammy, my limbs heavy, I wonder if I was coming down with some sort of fever. 

Flopping back onto the bed, I stare up at the mural on the ceiling, some sort of portrayal of God or Jesus perhaps, I wasn't well versed in my biblical scenes. It almost makes me laugh, wondering if there was a deity somewhere watching all of this play out, amused at how we squirmed. 

 I slowly get up as my body protests; I'm beaten, bloody, and broken. My body is held together by a patchwork of bandages and stitches, I can't sleep just yet, not with the book exposed out of my coat. I'd learned my lesson enough times, and I tread over the room to find it placed upon the large oak wardrobe, exactly where I'd left it. 

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