At the grimace on my face, he immediately jumps back. “Oh, apologies, lady, I—” Eyes dropping, he notices what he stepped on, and his words cut off. “What... What’s this?”
I grab my ribbons and push them behind me. “They’re just the ties to my chemise.”
His expression tells me that he doesn’t believe me at all, and honestly, he shouldn’t, because they’re obviously too thick and long.
A shift of his eyes has me stiffening, as he no doubt notices that the ribbons are poking out from beneath my chemise, not over. I quickly wrap the fur around my body to cover my back, but I know it’s too late.
“Is that all?” I ask, hoping that I can get him to leave.
Hojat clears his throat and jerks his eyes away. “Ah, no. The commander mentioned an injury on your ribs.”
I shake my head. “It’s fine, they’re—”
“I’m afraid I must insist. Commander’s orders.”
I clench my teeth. “And I’m afraid I must insist. I said it’s fine, and it’s my body.”
In order to see my ribs, I’d have to lift up my chemise way higher than I’m comfortable doing, or I’d have to take it off completely, and I’d be even more vulnerable than I am now. He’d be able to see my body and my ribbons, and that’s not something I’m willing to allow, mender or not.
Having the commander walk in on me was enough.
Hojat’s face softens. “You have nothing to fear from me, lady Auren. Just disrobe, lie down on the pallet, and I’ll be quick—”
My chest constricts. “No.”
Just lie down on the pallet, girl. This will be quick.
The voice that springs up from my memory is hoarse, bristly. I recall it with perfect clarity, and it makes me break out into a sweat. I can almost catch the scent of a wet wheat field, manure sodden in its soil. My stomach churns.
I’ve let myself wallow for too long today, left too many wounds open. My mind is vulnerable, letting things slip out that I buried long ago.
With a shaky breath, I shove away the jagged memory as hard as I can. “I’d like to rest now, Hojat.”
The mender looks like he wants to argue some more, but instead, he simply shakes his head with a resigned sigh.
Will the commander punish him? Will he punish me?
“Very well,” Hojat says.
My tense shoulders relax slightly as he turns away. I watch him fiddle around in his satchel again, then kneel at the flaps of the tent, scooping up some snow from outside and dumping it in a small rag that he ties at the corners.
I’m about to ask what he’s doing when he walks over with the tied bundle and another vial that he holds out to me. “Cold compress and some Ruxroot. It will help with the pain and sleep.”
I nod, taking them both. I pop open the cork of the small vial, pouring the contents in my mouth. As soon as it hits my tongue, I cough, nearly gagging, the heat and bitter taste so odious that tears flood my eyes. I barely manage to swallow it down.
“Great Divine, what is that?” I choke out. “I’ve taken Ruxroot plenty of times, and it never tasted like that.”
Hojat gives me a sheepish look as he takes back the empty vial. “Sorry, my lady, I forgot to warn you. I mix all of my remedies with henade.”
My eyes widen incredulously, my throat bobbing like it’s still trying to get rid of the burn. “You spike your medicinal brews with the strongest alcohol in all of Orea?” I ask.
He shrugs with a smile. “What did you expect? I’m an army mender. I mostly treat pissed-off soldiers fresh off the battlefield. Believe me, the more alcohol, the better in those cases. It helps deaden the pain for even the most brutal of wounds, and it improves their foul moods,” he says with a wink from his good eye.
I wipe my mouth on the fur hanging over my shoulder. “Ugh. I prefer wine.”
He chuckles and motions to the pack of snow I’m holding in the other hand. “Ice your cheek and lip tonight. The swelling will go down.”
I nod. “Thank you.”
“Good rest, my lady.” Hojat gathers his satchel and walks out, leaving me alone once again.
While I wait for the liquid on my shoulder to dry completely, I clean up my tray of food, and then I take the time to check over my dress and scrub out as much of the blood as I can before hanging it up on one of the poles of the tent to quasi-dry.
I swig down the last drops of my water to try and clean out the taste of the horrible tincture, but it doesn’t do much of anything. I hope that henade was the only extra ingredient mixed in there.
I probably shouldn’t have trusted Hojat so easily, but I was too relieved to be offered a pain suppressant that I didn’t even think. The mender doesn’t seem the type to slip me poison, but I really shouldn’t dismiss anyone in Fourth’s army.
Feeling like I’m nearly ready to collapse, I fold back some of the furs on the pallet and practically fall into the makeshift bed, carefully arranging my ribbons so they won’t tangle with my legs during the night.
I cover myself from cheeks to toes with the heavy furs, rolling up another to stuff under my head. Once I’m settled, I take the cold compress and hold it against my cheek.
My body soon warms beneath the thick layers, and I sigh, feeling the effects of Ruxroot begin to work itself through me.
But just when I start to close my heavy eyes, the tent flap lifts again, blowing in fresh snow. My eyes snap over to the commander as he ducks inside, the flaps falling closed behind him.
I have a feeling that this time, he won’t be walking back out.
Chapter 7
AUREN
My entire body stiffens. I should’ve known that I didn’t really get off the hook. Maybe he sent his mender to me so that I could be tended to so I could be well enough for him to have his way with me.
Bile rises in my throat, burning the back of my tongue, my body locked in place. “What are you doing?” I ask, acidic fear coating my voice.
But the commander doesn’t answer me. Instead, he stalks over to the other side of the tent where the extra pile of furs is located.
I hold my breath, fingers curled tightly on my coverings, clutching them for dear life as he leans down and starts to undo his boots. Breath gets caught in my throat as I watch him take off one, then the other. They land with a thump that matches the heavy beat in my chest.
I can’t help but think of the way he walked in on me, at what parts of my naked flesh he probably saw.
His fingers go up to his chest plate next, the black metal slipping off with a few rough tugs of the belted loops at either side. He sets it aside, and then begins to loosen the brown leather straps that crisscross over his chest to remove his black leather jerkin.
I’m just beginning to question how he’s going to take that off when the spikes along his arms and down his spine retract. Slowly, they sink beneath his skin, disappearing from view one by one, and as soon as they’re gone, he pulls off the jerkin, hanging it up on the tent pole above.