Caden backed off, retrieving the food. “Luce wanted you to start with something light.” He placed it down, and with its little, sturdy legs, the tray was the perfect height. “It’s chicken soup with rice mixed in, and Luce said if you tolerate this well, we can move onto something more substantial.”
Staring down at the bowl, I realized there was cutlery. God, when was the last time I’d even used silverware? I could almost see the stewed beef staining the tips of my fingers. I started to reach for the spoon but stopped when I became aware of my arm shaking. Tremors coursed throughout my entire body.
I stared at the bowl, unable to move for several moments. The fear was irrational. I knew I could eat with no problem, but the emotion was so potent it choked me.
Heat crawled up my neck, and I looked over at Caden, expecting to see him watching me, expression haunted.
He wasn’t.
Caden wasn’t watching me at all. Instead, he was over at the small table, pouring a glass of the berry water.
Sweet relief swept through me. He wasn’t anywhere near me, and while I suspected that he’d done that on purpose, I didn’t care. The tremors lessened, and when I finally picked up the spoon, it wasn’t like I’d forgotten it.
A little of the broth spilled as I lifted the utensil, but at the first taste, I closed my eyes. It didn’t hurt, and it was so good.
I ate.
Caden stayed back, silent as he turned on the TV. I had no idea what he was watching because he had the volume turned down low, but he appeared engrossed in it.
At least that was what I thought until I placed the spoon in the empty bowl, and he turned immediately. “Thirsty?”
Belly warm and full, I nodded.
Walking over to me, Caden set the drink on the nightstand, within my reach. “I’m going to grab the tray,” he announced, doing just that. Placing it on the table, he then returned to sit in the chair that was next to the bed.
I stared at him for several moments and then picked up my glass, taking a sip. “So…” I drew the word out.
“Yes?”
“Are you just going to sit there?”
“Yes.”
I looked at him. “Why?”
Caden leaned back, hooking one leg over the other. He looked completely at ease. “Because I want to.”
“What if I don’t want you here?”
“Then I’ll leave.”
I stared at him pointedly.
A grin appeared. “But you don’t want that.”
I started to ask why he thought that, but it was true. Only because I didn’t want to be alone. I’d spent enough time in that crypt by myself.
That’s what I told myself.
But also, I was…afraid to go to sleep. Part of it was the nightmares I was sure would find me, but a lot of it had to do with my mother. Things were always the hardest for her in the mornings, especially when she had her spells where she had no idea where she was, or when she believed she was still trapped with those fae.
What if that happened to me?
Shoving those fears aside wasn’t exactly easy. “Aren’t you tired?” I asked, wanting to distract myself.
He shook his head. “I feel more awake than I have in centuries.”
“Well…” I placed the glass back on the nightstand. “You were under a dark spell for a lot of it, so…”
“True.” Humor danced in his eyes, which was something I’d never thought to see when time under the Queen’s spell was referenced. “Is there anything I can get you?”
I thought about that. “A comb? I think there’s one in the bathroom.”
Caden rose, retrieving the comb. Instead of handing it over, he did what he’d done with the glass, placing it on the nightstand.
Murmuring my thanks, I picked it up, but the moment I attempted to lift my arm to my head, I knew it wasn’t going to work.
I sighed. “Who would’ve thought that broken ribs would be such a pain.”
“Anyone who has had broken ribs,” he replied.
“Have you?”
“More times than I can count.”
“Really?” Disbelief filled me as I thought about what Tink had said and also…something that Aric had said about Caden, giving the impression that the King had been a bit of a playboy in his day. Actually, Tink had said the same thing once.
“Would you like me to help?” Caden asked, and my gaze shot to his. “I’m actually quite accomplished at combing the knots out of ornery females.”
“I have so many questions, starting with how in the world you have that experience.”
A faint, wistful smile appeared. “Fabian and I had a younger sister.”
“Oh.” Had being the keyword. “I…I didn’t know that.” I dragged my thumb along the teeth of the comb. “Maybe I’ll just cut it all off and start over.”
“Let me help you instead?” he offered. “It won’t take very long at all, and then I’ll leave you be.”
I looked at the comb and then at him. “You promise?”
“Promise,” he murmured.
I had a feeling he was lying, but there was no way I could comb the knots out, and waiting until Ivy returned was just going to make them worse. A little embarrassed and a whole lot unsure, I handed over the comb.
He took it so quickly that I didn’t even see him move. “I’m going to move behind you, but I’m going to hold you up so it doesn’t jar your ribs.”
I nodded, and then Caden did just as he said, somehow rearranging me and the pillows so that he was behind me, one long leg hanging off the bed, and I…I was sitting between his thighs, leaning onto one of the pillows, holding it close to my chest.
This was so inappropriate.
But I didn’t say anything as Caden began to separate my hair into three sections. He didn’t note the tremors that had picked back up in my body.
“My sister was the baby of the family,” he said, beginning to work at the knots in the center section. “She was born two hundred years after Fabian and I were.”
Goodness.
It was easy to forget how old Caden and his brother were.
“Scorcha was…she was the kindest and most beautiful soul,” he said, gently tugging at the rat’s nest that was my hair. “Far better than Fabian or I could’ve ever hoped to be, except when it came to getting the knots out of her hair. You see, she had long, thick hair, and was constantly running about after Fabian and me. It was a constant battle between our mother and her to get her to sit still long enough, but she always did it for me. No matter what.”
I hugged the pillow. “Sounds like she wanted your attention.”
“She did. She wanted both Fabian’s and my attention, but we’d just gone through puberty, and well, we were concerned with other things,” he said. “Funny how you think you’ll learn from the knowledge that time can be fleeting, even for our kind, and come to realize that as fickle as time is, it also makes you forget.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that. “What happened to her?”
He was quiet, and a part of me wished I hadn’t asked. “We do not suffer from many illnesses, but there are a few that are similar to cancer or…heart failure. Some of the older fae believe that these sicknesses are curses, while others believe there are genetic reasons. Either way, Scorcha came down with what was called The Long Sleep. It’s a…wasting disease. Appetite and stamina are lost, and eventually, one slips into a sleep they don’t wake from. She was only ten years old, very young, even by human standards.”