I awoke the next morning in bed, the sunlight reaching through the windows to caress my face. My fever had dissipated hastily yesterday with the medicine I'd been prescribed. Although Hael had made it so it felt like I was choking on stones whenever I swallowed or felt a throb in my abdomen whenever I moved, I felt much better this bright morning than I had in days.
Sitting forward on the bed, my eyes immediately flew to the open door. A quick scope of the room showed Hael's things were here, but he was not. Was this a test? I debated moving from my spot on the bed, ultimately deciding to get up when it felt like my morning bladder would explode. I dug through one of the dresser drawers for amenities and hurried to the—fortunately—empty bathroom on our floor. My make-shift veil hung loosely from the bridge of my nose while I relieved myself and freshened up. It was a little warm this morning, so I decided I would bathe this evening.
When I returned to the room, Hael was there, his back turned to me as he faced the window overlooking the busy street. His shoulders were set tensely, balancing an invisible weight. Peering past him, my mouth watered at the decadent breakfast spread across the table. There was even a plate of what looked like jam-filled pastries. A favorite of mine. I'd always had a sweet tooth, so even for breakfast, I craved desserts.
"I thought you left." Hael's voice was distant when it reached my ears, like it had come from somewhere far away. Then, his shoulders relaxed as though he was relieved I was still here.
I stepped further into the room and closed the door quietly behind me, realizing I must have been in the bathroom for a while. A palpable disappointment had been anchored to Hael's voice, leaving me curious whether he'd panicked thinking I'd left him. And I wondered why he cared so passionately that I remained with him. If he would not kill me, would not sell me, then for what reason did he have me with him?
"I told you I wouldn't," I rasped, my voice raw this morning and unable to climb higher than a whisper. I removed the cloth from around my face.
"You told me you'd take advantage of the next opportunity. Well, I gave that to you, and you chose to come back," he murmured inquisitively, like he couldn't comprehend why I hadn't chosen to escape.
I couldn't comprehend it either, and it puzzled me why the idea to flee hadn't even crossed my mind this morning. Still, it was strange that he'd decided to test me this way. If I had chosen to run, would he not have come after me anyway?
Hael turned to face me, his crescent eyes widening as they descended to my neck. A displeased noise left his throat, and his lashes fluttered over that innocently distressed gaze. There wasn't a mirror in the bathroom, so I hadn't been able to inspect my neck this morning. My throat was sore almost to the point of dysfunction, so the bruises must've been severe.
"I did that to you," he declared, pain hitching his breath. His voice was so soft, and it was as though he'd only been trying to mutter a confession to God, and it had managed to stumble to my ears as well.
I observed him, and my heart cramped at the remorse graying his countenance. So he'd indeed had some awareness when he'd attacked me last night. "It was a mistake," I found myself saying, feeling strangely compelled to defend him against himself. "You did not know it was me."
Hael's eyes lingered on me, finding nowhere to reside but the bruising on my neck. His guilt hung like dense clouds in the air, and it was even difficult for me to inhale. He parted his lips to speak, but it seemed the right words avoided him. Making a frustrated sound, he closed his mouth and stepped to the side.
The entire table was revealed then, and with his soft eyes, Hael wordlessly implored that I sit and eat. I wished he'd asked me directly, but perhaps he'd believed I would have turned him down. I wouldn't have. Moving across the room, I took the rounded chair. I took an interest in the activity outside the window as the village awoke. Horses ambled with the calming tap of their hooves, following their owners down the sandy street.
I even discovered a precious girl receiving a sweet from an elderly woman. It made my heart open with adoration for them both, two strangers I hadn't met but was already fond of. When I returned my eyes to the table, Hael was pulling away with the small amount of food remaining on the tray.
"Stay," I rushed out, my eyes widening when his gaze collided curiously with mine.
A chill ran along my body, my heart unsure what to garner from the emotion climbing through me. Hael's eyes were still on me, patient and expectant, so I cleared my throat—painfully. "You're taking away the eggs. Keep them here so we can share," I requested weakly, and I was sure Hael had detected my lie if the twitch of his lips was anything to go by. I disliked eggs.
My heart hopped around my chest erratically. I didn't know why I desired to keep Hael close this morning. Last night had shaken me, seeing him struggle so badly. Perhaps my subconscious felt compelled to guard the innocence in him, to protect that vulnerable part of himself he strived to keep locked away.
Hael continued to study me, and it was clear he was hesitant about eating with me. Regardless, he set the tray down and unloaded it. Then he took his seat at the round table, only a space away from mine.
Sipping the cool water available was the only way to busy my hands. And soothe my throat.
I hadn't thought this through because now that he was sitting, I didn't know how I should act. I had grown used to Hael sneaking glances at me, sometimes staring openly, but right now he wouldn't even look at me. It was like his guilt from his lack of control last night was too much for him to own. I thought it might even be strange for someone like him to feel guilt, especially toward the mere likes of me.
Taking a risk, I reached for a piece of warm bread and sat it on his plate. His eyes stretched in recognition, coming to me quickly.
His innocence sometimes knocked the breath out of me. "Breakfast is important," I dumbly declared, merely grasping for something to say.
Hael's lips twitched like he wanted to smile, but he frowned instead as though remembering all the reasons he shouldn't have. My neck tingled when his gaze fell to it again, and this time I could not tell if it was the bruises he studied or the diagonal scar. Looking away, he picked aimlessly at his bread.
Silence wasn't uncommon between us. Hael always blatantly ignored the many questions I asked about where we were headed or his organization, and there usually wasn't much else I was willing to converse with him about.
However, there'd always been the loud sound of his horse trotting across paved roads or the harmony of rustling leaves and animated conversations from others to fill the silence. So it was only natural I felt uncomfortable now with the dense quiet between us. Even the noises outside seemed to reduce to whispers. It was maddening, the many unspoken things between us, right on the edge of our tongues and taunting me with what we were both too tentative to say aloud.
I couldn't remain a coward forever.
"Do you…last night you were…" Unsure of how to approach him, I ultimately settled with asking, "Do you have nightmares every night?"
"Most nights," he answered quietly, his gaze slowly returning to me.
I nodded, fidgeting with the shiny cutlery beside my plate. "Can I ask what they're about?"
Hael's gaze narrowed, growing troubled. He focused on my neck briefly and then my eyes again. "How did that happen?"
"My scar?"
"Yes."
I knew he'd probably only inquired to distract me from my curiosity about him, and it would be difficult for me to use many words, but I answered anyway. "A childhood friend of mine was being picked on by a wealthy politician's son and his friends. I intervened long enough for her to run off, but they didn't take warmly to that. They beat me out of anger just because they felt they could, and one of the boys pulled a knife on me when I managed to get him on the ground. He cut me and ran, but not without locating where my friend had run off to first.
"I tried to be the hero but only gave her false hope. I don't know what those boys did to her, but she didn't speak for an entire month after." I shuddered as the memories pushed to the forefront of my mind.
I remembered the trembling horror I'd experienced when I'd thought I would die right there in the grass after having done nothing significant with my life and failing to protect my friend.
A prickly sensation stung the backs of my eyes. "I was adopted into the Avalon family, Hael. And in the village I came from, things like that occurred often. Privileged individuals abused us just because they could. There were never any consequences for them. No one cared about those who couldn't afford to live in the cities." I wiped my eyes roughly when I felt tears gather. "I was too weak to protect her," I whispered.
"You weren't weak. You aren't," Hael declared, vehemently defending me against my degradation. "You didn't let those privileged boys frighten you off. Instead, you stepped in and showcased your bravery, even earning a battle wound to show for it. Reyin, if that isn't strength, then I'm afraid the quality doesn't exist. The only weak one is the individual who failed to protect you." His eyes squinted with remorse, as though he'd been the one to cut me.
It was strange how he looked at me. Like he knew me. Like he'd been there with me while I'd been bleeding out. But that was impossible. No one had been there but a gardener who'd stumbled across my lifeless body and hauled me to the only doctor we'd had.
It was due to her that I was alive right now.
But even so, my damp eyes creased inquisitively. I was desperate for an answer to the burning curiosity in my chest. I inhaled bravely. "Hael…have we met before?"
Silence commenced again, a stretch much longer than the last.
"Why do you ask?"
"Sometimes…you look at me as though you know me or like we knew each other at some point." If that was so, maybe that was his reason for keeping me with him. "Is it true?"
Silently refusing to answer, Hael took a sudden interest in the breakfast spread. He picked up his fork, and I grabbed his wrist. "Hae—"
"Don't touch me," he snapped, his utensil crashing onto the floor when his chair pushed out from beneath the table and slid far. Him still in it.
My wide eyes followed him, my heart pounding in my ears.
Hael blinked remorsefully, his face twisting in pain. "I hurt you when I promised I wouldn't. I…I can never touch you again."
Immediate sorrow flared in my gut, reacting to the guilt emanating from Hael in waves, and I found myself wanting to soothe his concerns. I wanted to prove that I believed he wouldn't hurt me.
"I'm safe with you," I reminded him. "You promised me."
"And I broke that promise."
"Not on purpose," I countered softly. "It was my fault for approaching you."
He pinched his eyes shut, his shoulders stiffening again. And he was shaking his head now. Accepting responsibility. Denying the truth. A tender but displeased huff left my lips as I approached him. When I pressed a pacifying hand to his shoulder, his eyes snapped open, lifting warily to take me in.
"See?" I smiled easily. "I'm still breathing."
He fixated on my mouth with moon eyes, and I realized it was the first time I had ever smiled around him.
I was smiling at a person who killed without remorse. What kind of person did that make me? Just as quickly, I amended my mistake and straightened my lips.
Hael looked into my eyes then, his glazed over like smooth ceramic. "You're still here?" he asked quietly, fragility and doubt bleeding into his words.
"I'm here, and I'm not afraid," I whispered, squeezing his shoulder.
I didn't know how true that would remain if he took another life in front of me, but at this moment, as he looked up at me with mind-numbing vulnerability, I realized I truly wasn't afraid. I indeed felt safe with him. He wouldn't hurt me.
Hael lifted his hand, intending to touch the one I had pressed against him. I let my hand linger so he could touch me if he wanted to, but his fingers twitched as he decided against finding relief in me. His hand fell helplessly onto his lap. And then promptly, like this incident had not happened, his expression hardened into something stoic.
"You need to eat. To take your medicine," he flatly gave.
He waited until I slid my hand away from his shoulder to return to the table. And when I joined him, we ate in silence.