posted on Apr, 6 2017 @ 04:11 PM
56 - Just Some Old Scars
The room fell silent for a moment, then she spoke again.
“After I am fully recovered, we must talk.”
“As you wish, Seeress.”
Grimacing, he turned to look back out the window, his hand still pressed to the side of his lower back.
“Lord Braeghe, why are you,” she trailed off, then exclaimed, “You are bleeding!”
“So I am,” he shrugged, turning his head toward her. She was looking at him critically. He noticed the feeling more now, the sticky wetness
between his fingers held just above his waistline. He plucked absently at the now blood-soaked portion of the shirt.
“Come over here and sit down,” she said, getting up and moving the one intact chair next to the bed. He obeyed, sitting down with his back to her
and arms resting on the back of the chair.
His habit of obedience was strong – despite his two recent Corrections, the a’akirjutama over his heart had not been needed to Compel him
in years. Mother had spent a small fortune on the diamond used to create it. A symbol of purity for her son. A symbol of prison.
“Lift your shirt, I need to see what I’m dealing with.”
He carefully lifted the hem of his shirt up slightly – only as much as necessary – and she inspected the wound, pushing at it gently. After a
moment, she paused, then pushed some of the fabric of his shirt farther. Suddenly she grabbed the hem and pulled it up all the way to expose his back,
and her sharp intake of breath stabbed at him. Immediately he stood up and faced her, shame blooming in his chest. Her dark eyes were wide and her
mouth slightly open.
“What happened to you?” she whispered.
Gaalen looked away. “Just some old scars.”
Her brow furrowed in irritation. “That is not what I asked. How did you come by them?”
Gaalen stiffened, and he stared intently at her, controlling his tongue. Deliberately, he said, “They’re healed now, Seeress.” What if she
tried to Take his scars? What if she found out?
“You are avoiding--”
He stared at her. She stopped, and pursed her lips, shaking her head. “Sit back down. And take your shirt off, please.” He complied. What was
the point of trying to hide them now?
As she worked, deftly cleaning the wound with the water and the handwashing towel in the room, he could almost feel her eyes on his back, examining
the criss-crossing jumble of pale runnels and welts. Her fingertips were warm, and her dark hair was soft as it brushed his bare skin. Even now, she
smelled of flowers and a spice he couldn’t identify.
“I have heard of this, but I’ve never actually,” she muttered, not finishing the thought. “Some of those are more than a simple whipping
He did not respond, and she looked him in the eyes. “You were scourged, weren’t you?” she said, aghast. Her cleaning of his wound had
become more vigorous, and Gaalen had to concentrate to hide the pain.
Gaalen looked away toward the window. “Some things are best left in the dark, Seeress.”
“I could find out, you know.”
“I know. Please do not do that.”