Annihilation - Book Three

Chapter 38

To busy myself with anything to prevent hunting down my warlord, I decide to find Penelope and see if she's alright. Much to my dismay, she's conscious and looks unhappy at my intrusion into her room. Being of royal blood, and a guest of the lord of this manor, her treatment ends as soon as I arrive. 

Despite any reservations I have about being put in front of a woman with child, the elf insists that Penelope's treatment was over and that she'd worry if she didn't check me immediately. Giving Penelope an apologetic glance, I surrender to these terms as the woman takes the time to check over my injuries and examine my face while I'm there. I had a few new scars and a couple more cracks in my bones, but other than that, I would be fine.

 I note that the elves here are a bit less touchy than those living in Haryek's home. While in Ziduri, I felt as though I was fondled and ogled by every elf who dared touch me. I could hardly dress myself or get a moment alone, and even bathing was difficult without an audience or someone offering secondary services. Here, we were lucky that these people knew better than to put such notions on unsuspecting guests. 

 In the Manor of a married man, such conduct was practically forbidden, even in a political sense.

"It won't scar, thankfully." She carefully touches my jawline with fingers resembling petals against my skin. I ponder the little things as she goes over my body, what it was like to have soft hands and be clean for days. I'd practically forgotten the conditions I used to live in, we'd been on the road for so long that even meager comforts like these felt like luxuries. 

I used to be concerned by how many new scars I was acquiring, but now I seem to have lost count, and I'd rather them go ahead and heal than tend to them.

My life was so drastically different now than it was two years ago. Glancing at myself in one of the many mirrors, I decide it's my least favorite part of Elf society. The vanity aspect was incredibly difficult when someone looked as I did. 

Sighing, I tilt my chin upward as I sit in front of her in my undershorts so she can check all my stitches, "That looks painful." She touches the place on my thigh where Adriam had cut out the arrow. 

"It was." But what followed it was so much more painful. 

I shift awkwardly as she runs her hands over me, and I distract myself by reflecting on how far I've come with allowing strangers to see me, to touch my skin, and not feel so violated. My scars were open and exposed to her, and unfortunately, she struggled not to stare. 

Few people had ever seen someone as scarred as me, as tormented and abused. My healed cuts and wounds were obviously inflicted in a way meant to cause harm; the angles meant that someone else had to be the one to make such cuts. I was a future king and a prince. Few knew how terrible my schooling had been or that where I had gone hadn't been a pampered prince's vacation. 

Shirtless in front of a woman I don't even know, I find it pretty amazing how healing can come in the strangest packages. 

"If you're going to get a handy, please don't do it on my bed." Penelope manages.

 The elf woman gasps, embarrassed as she flushes, she truly must not be from Ziduri. 

 "Why am I not surprised you are in here?" Penelope grumbles when I don't answer. 

Does she not want to see me? 

I settle for a half-hearted shrug. "I figured it was time to stop acting.. so childish. I'm worried about you and I wanted to see how you were doing."

Penelope rolls her eyes and slowly sits up, cringing as I go to help her, propping the pillow up behind her. Her body looks even smaller. Penelope has never been a large woman, and in the bed surrounded by the plush blankets, she seems almost sickly.