Page 50 of A Whisper of Cinders

His eyes trace my face, maybe a moment too long, before he picks up a little light and asks me to follow his finger with my eyes. “No concussion.”

His hand hovers above my head and it takes a second before I realise he’s waiting for me to give permission. I nod once. His palm lands on top of my head, slowly moving down until he touches a sore spot more towards the back and I can’t help but wince. “There is a bump on the back of her head.” A small pause. “Do you have a headache?”

“A little,” I whisper, but that is understatement. My head pounds as loudly as my heartbeat. The crying, the emotional drainage and the door against my head isn’t a good combination for someone sensitive to headaches.

He moves his hand from the back of my head down my arms, noticing the bloody crescent moons my nails left there, towards my wrist, two fingers searching for the pulse point. As I take Aramis in, I can’t help but notice his effortless charm. The long lashes that curl upward, the tanned skin and dust of freckles across his nose bridge, the blond loose waves that caress his forehead. I could easily fall for him, if not for his looks alone, but the way he treats me, the respect? How could you not like him?

My heart picks up its pace and his eyes lock into mine, holding my gaze as he counts the seconds away. “Pulse is strong,” he says, his voice a little hoarser than before. “Breathing steady.”

He breaks eye contact first, looking back at Mrs Delalune. “I’ll give her something to dull the headache and reduce the swelling and disinfect the small cuts on her arms.” He turns around again. “Other than that, she is physically fine.”

He tilts his head, observing me, and I know he sees I’m hanging on by a thread.

“I think it’s time we let Maily rest, for tomorrow there is a new dawn and a time to start anew.”

I look past Aramis, Mrs Delalune is an epitome of peace and serenity. I give her words a second thought. I could try it, make my life better starting from this moment on. Try to amend for the crime I committed. Try to do better. For Ami.

“See you tomorrow?” Aramis asks, breaking my train of thought. I nod once, making his shoulders sag a little.

When it’s just the two of us, Mrs Delalune offers me a soft, compassionate smile. “Do you want to talk about it?”

I open my mouth, ready to burst it all out, but I don’t think I am ready yet. “It is hard to see how the world keeps turning without the one thing that keeps you grounded.”

“I see,” she says, coming a little closer. “I do sincerely hope you can eventually give Moonveil and its people a chance. It is your home now.”

Home. What does that even mean? Deciding to let the matter go, I have one small request to make. “Is it possible to follow self-defence classes here?”

If my question surprises her, she doesn’t let it show. “It is, we have an excellent professor teaching the art of defence. Would you like to enrol?”

“Yes, I…” I know I don’t owe her any explanation, but I want to explain either way. “I don’t ever want to feel weak again. For five years, I was too scared to handle when I wasn’t treated rightly. I have muscles, but they are weak. If someone would chase me in my current state, I wouldn’t stand a chance.” My breaths are a little shaky, but I continue. “I want to feel strong, be strong and learn how to defend myself when needed.”

Mrs Delalune takes me in for a moment, nodding in admiration. “Of course, I will send someone to pick you up in the morning.”

It still surprises me that I can make requests here and someone actually listens to them and takes action. “Thank you, Mrs Delalune.”

She folds her hands in front of her, smiling as she bows her head a little. “No need to thank me. Aramis will come back with some medication. Try to get some rest.”

“I will,” I say, even though I’m not entirely sure if sleep will find me. As Mrs Delalune takes her leave and I lay there underneath the covers, the cold seems embedded in my bones.

Deciding it might be wise to take a shower now that I have the luxury of owning a private one, I throw the covers away and search for something to sleep in. I grab the first comfiest thing I see, an oversized T-shirt, walk over to the shower and let the water run.

The scalding stream pours over me, steam swirling at my feet. I should feel the burn, I know the water is too hot and it’s a miracle I can stand under the strong pulse without shrieking. But I need this, to burn away the glooming thoughts building in my head. Or at least try to.

When I’m finally warmed up and sleep calls my name, I pat myself dry with a towel, change into an oversized shirt and brush my teeth.

I re-enter the room and notice the fire burning in the hearth and a small vial with an amber coloured sustenance in it. A little note lays next to it, one sentence written on it in elegant handwriting.

For the headache and to chase away other pains.

Aramis

Would it mend my broken soul as well? Probably not, either way, I sniff the vial — picking up hints of lavender, peppermint and camomile — before I put it at my lips and down it in one go.

I climb in bed, pulling the covers close around me. Fatigue wraps around me like an old friend. And as sleep drags me under, I can’t help but feel a little excited for what tomorrow might bring.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Warm light spills across my eyelids, tugging me gently toward wakefulness. Not used to the sun, I enjoy the feeling a little longer. But my curiosity eventually wins and I open my eyes, not surprised to not see a hint of sunlight filtering through the window.