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A smile that suddenly looked different.
The Boy stepped closer, his hand a soft pressure of support on my lower back, the silent question echoing through my mind.
‘Are you alright?’
“I’m fine,” I said the words in a whisper even as something hardened inside of me. “Boy, tell me one thing, was he the one to whip you?”
I knew what Batian had said, but that hope was still there, that desperate plea that my brother wasn’t the monster he was slowly revealing himself to be.
There was nothing but the excited chatter of the crowd in my ears, the sound accented by the thunderous beat of my heart, by the sound of Batian’s boots as he walked right up to me.
The click of confirmation from the Boy was still ringing in my ears as Batian grabbed my hand.
“You, my dear sister, are riding with me.”
He said nothing more before leading me to his carriage, his skin icy against the boiling heat of mine, freezing me right to my core and smothering that last ember of hope, taking with it everything that I thought I knew about my brother.
Chapter 34
Elara
Batian sat on the opposite side of the carriage, a box of pastries and cream laid out on the seat beside him. He sat there, eating the delicacies, watching Aeinya through the back window as she walked barefoot behind the carriage.
The Boy and I sat there, watching him eat, listening to the clomp of horse’s feet and the creaks of a hundred carriages as they began the slow journey toward the temple. I could see the path in my mind, the hundreds of maps I had studied clear as I plotted our trek from Turin, down the spine road, and all the way toward the far side of Okivo and the ancient temple that was nestled against the Forest of Ok, the haunted red trees of the ‘forest’ nothing more than the last remnant of the great Black War and the Fae that were slaughtered there.
It was exciting, especially as we walked through Turin and I saw the village, the quaint houses and all the people who lined the streets and cheered for Aeinya, throwing her bits of food and gold in support. It would all be collected and donated to the poor houses, but seeing Aeinya’s smile, seeing the people, it had brought back some of that excitement of the wedding, and of my future sister.
But then we left Turin, the city falling away to expansive fields and meadows and green forests in the distance that seemed to stretch on forever. Aeinya’s smile faded with each step, her face drifting into a grimace as food was brought to the carriages, people laughing and talking in the carriages and on the horses around us. Still, she continued to walk, she was not even given so much as a scrap of bread and cheese, which was all I got, even as Batian was given a tray of duck, and now pastries.
He ate, he watched her walk. He didn’t say a word to me, and before long I fell asleep, the gentle motions of the carriage lulling me there.
“You are too familiar.” The harshness in Batian’s voice was back and I flinched, rocking against the Boy's shoulder, where I had apparently fallen asleep. The carriage lurched, rolling me into him more as the Boy spoke and I made sure to keep my eyes closed. Clearly, they thought I was asleep and I was going to keep it that way.
“I am with her at all times, Prince, her closeness is expected. I, however, am careful to keep my distance.” He spoke low, that voice the same dark shroud that had haunted the black spaces of my mind since I first heard it. It rolled through me as the carriage continued to rock.
“Is this what we are calling this?” Batian gave a heartless bark of a laugh and I shifted, keeping my eyes closed and body loose so they would still think I was sleeping. The light that was filtering through my eyelids was dull, as though the sun was setting. I must have been asleep for a while.
“She is asleep.” I wasn’t sure if the Boy spoke to cover my motions or in answer. “Where else would she place her head?”
There was a pause as the carriage rocked again, the motions sending all of us to the side. A soft noise issued from somewhere behind us, the sound almost like a sob against the creaking of wood and clatter of hooves. I resisted the urge to look back at the woman who was still walking behind us, I knew exactly where that sound had come from.
“Tell me, Boy. Did you call on your mother?” Batian asked as though he had not heard the sobs, or as if he didn’t care.
The Boy's muscles tensed underneath where my head rested on his shoulder, the faint sound of his heart that was whispered through the leathers speeding up. He tensed as I did before he spoke.
“I am not sure of what you speak.”
“You know exactly of what I speak,” Batian hissed, his voice growing loud, the seat creaking as he had leaned forward. The Boy's muscles flexed. “You should not have been well enough to make today’s journey. You should not be walking. I made sure of it.”
It took far too much effort not to move, not to flinch or gasp at what he said. Not only had he held the whip, but he had meant to hurt him enough that he would not heal. He had meant to nearly kill him, and then leave him there for me to clean up.
He had meant that. All of it.
The admission stabbed through me and I forced my breathing to stay level, even as my heart sped up and the muscles on my back tightened. My face heated and I shifted into the Boy, forcing the hot tears of betrayal to stay hidden. He relaxed at the shift in weight, the palm pressing against my hip in that calm comfort he always had, almost as though he knew I was awake.
He exhaled, his hand dropping back to the seat of the carriage.
“You know my kind has greater healing.” He spoke calmly, evenly. Every word was clear, even as Batian sucked in breath through his teeth, as though he had said something vile.
