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Curious, I wanted to mention that very thing but something inside me told me not to. I still felt so much shame from my time with Demos, knowing that the bride these men came to get for their prince, the same bride who had caused the death of their fellow warriors, had given her virginity to another man.
“Are you all right, Sierra?” Fadon asked, worry crossing his face. He went to touch my cheek but seemed to think better of it, and instead, slowly dropped his hand.
I gave him a wobbly smile. “Yes, just a lot to take in. I’m at a disadvantage with this omega and alpha stuff. I have so much to learn, apparently.
Fadon bought the excuse, it seemed, and looked at Jon. “I’m taking her to see Orion. He’s the best man for answering all her questions.”
“Ah. Very fine idea, Captain. Do me a favor and tell him I look well enough to leave this damn room, would you? He’ll listen to you.”
Fadon laughed. “My words have no sway when it comes to him. Anyway, he’s the expert here, not me.” He waved a hand at Jon’s mangled leg. “Rest up. I’ll be putting you to work soon. Mari has the whole damn manse preparing for Ander’s wedding, plus an Omega ceremony. And I still plan on doing something with the guard in honor of the envoy.” He looked apologetically at me. “We should be going, my lady.”
I nodded and touched Jon’s arm. “I’m so glad you’re going to recover. Do as the captain says and get your rest.”
“Bah. I’m quite sick of resting,” Jon said, winking at her.
Something occurred to me. “I have a question. I learned recently that I have some kind of… speed healing.” I felt stupid calling it that but went on anyway. “Does that not apply to alphas?”
“It does, yes. But…” Jon said.
“We can still be injured to the point where our ability to heal sometimes isn’t enough,” Fadon answered.
I winced, realizing Jon’s injury would have probably killed him in minutes had he been an average man. I didn’t even want to know the details of what exactly caused the injury. But if it looked that bad now, considering he was an alpha…
“I see,” I said. “Just get better, Jon. I’d like to check on you again. Maybe tonight?”
He smiled. “I would be honored. I’ve been bored out of my mind. I know your betrothed has a deck of cards he picked up once in Shallaban that I’ve envied for years. You being his bride and all, maybe you can sweet talk him into letting you play a few hands with me?”
I laughed. “I can try.”
“We need to get going,” Fadon said. He sounded gruff, but when I looked back at him he simply looked bored.
We said goodbye to Jon, shutting the door behind us as we left. Fadon looked me over.
“Feeling a little better?” he asked.
“For now, yes.” I handed him back the handkerchief, but he wouldn’t take it.
“Keep it.” He smiled slightly. “I don’t want you to blame yourself for what happened, Sierra. All we can do is move forward. Staying in the past will only weaken you.”
I had nothing to say to that, so I just nodded, wiping a lone tear that had fallen at his words. The linen handkerchief smelled like him, and I was surprised at how comforting the scent was, before I put it in my gown’s pocket.
Yes, I would try to move forward. It was what I had been doing ever since I’d been chosen as the Fealty Bride. But the grief was a heavy burden to carry, one I’d have no choice but to get used to.
We took the stairs down and to the center hall. Instead of going to the east wing, where the queen’s residence was, we walked to the north wing, which I had been in this morning for breakfast. At the end of the hall the space branched out into many segues. Fadon chose the one straight ahead. Another flight of stairs, this one narrow with stone steps. We went up two floors, and at the landing, we met a short hallway that ended at an iron door.
Fadon led me inside, and I spied a man leaning over a table near a set of windows. Morning light poured into the room, which consisted of stone walls and floor. Several tables, two of which looked reserved for patients to lie on, sat in the middle of the room. Tall over-stuffed bookshelves and glass cabinets filled with tonics stood against the back wall. The room smelled of camphor and something metallic.
“Ah, Captain!” the man said, coming over to greet us. “And you, my lady, must be our princess. I am Orion Markalis, the House’s physician.”
I knew right away, from his stature alone, that he was just an average man, older than my father. He gave me a bow of respect, and when he straightened, he smiled, showing yellowing teeth and a bushy mustache that draped over his top lip. His eyes were merry and kind. His hair matched that of his mustache, a steel gray. I liked him instantly.
“Orion, thank you for taking some time to meet with us,” Fadon said.
“It is an honor, Captain.” He nodded. “How are you feeling, my lady?” His eyes roamed over me with a paternal assessment. “Appetite strong? Sleeping well?”
“I—” I began, but he motioned to the table behind him. It was padded, covered with a sheet of white linen that smelled of fresh air, its hem tucked neatly under it. “Oh, thank you.” I tried to lift myself to sit, but I wasn’t tall enough. Fadon was by my side, his hands at my waist, lifting me up onto it before I could make a sound.
He stepped back, and the healer moved forward.
