Essos’s hand covers my forehead. My hands feel like clubs as I try to reach up to grab it. I think that I close my hand around his wrist, but I’m not positive, because my hand drops, unable to hold on.
“I need you to open your eyes, Daphne.” It’s not a gentle request, but he’s trying to keep his voice soft. I want to respond and tell him that I don’t want to open my eyes, I want to go back to sleep, but my mouth stays shut as if my lips are glued together.
When I don’t respond, he pleads with me.“Please, open your eyes for me, sweetheart.” My eyes flutter open, and I find Essos sitting on the floor looking down at me. “I am so,sosorry, but this is going to hurt.” He closes his eyes, his face scrunching up in concentration.
If I thought that my headache was bad before, this feels as though someone is pouring molten lava directly into my brain. I reach for something to hold, finding only Essos’s hand on my forehead. I grab it and sit up suddenly, screaming and screaming andscreaming, ceasing only to beg him to stop. His free hand grabs mine, so I have something to squeeze as the pain builds.
Then, abruptly, it’s over. I slump back into the shower, my throat raw, soaked to the bone, the shower still running. Essos leans back against the glass wall of the shower, still gripping my hand. The water has run through his hair, ruining the combed-back look. I want to reach up and push it back, but I bury the urge. It takes a moment, but I realize that my head isn’t pounding any longer.
Sybil falls to their knees beside Essos.“My lord!” they call, trying to get him to look at them. He’s still holding my hand, and with the other, he waves them off, trying to get a good look at me. Cat finally has the good sense to turn off the shower, but now my lavender pajamas are see-through.
Essos doesn’t seem to notice as he gets to his knees to look at me. His hand cups my face, his thumb gently rubbing warmth into my cheek as he studies me.
“Your eyes are clear now. Do you feel any better?” I nod, my throat too sore to find words. “Good. You know how I warned you about getting too much information too quickly and how there are consequences? I’m beginning to think that your mind is overwhelmed. I think we should postpone today.” He looks away from me to find a towel, then he gently lifts me from the floor to wrap me in it, preserving what is left of my dignity.
“Please, don’t.” I croak, my hand touching my throat gently.
Essos reaches to touch it too, and I assume he is using his ability to heal it. “Do you have any shred of self-preservation whatsoever?” he breathes, sounding amazed. I’m sure it’s not from pride, but in shock at my level of stubborn stupidity.
Galen steps into the room, crossing his arms.“I’m going to have to agree with my big brother on this one. You should rest.”
Everyone in the room looks shocked at the agreement. I think Sybil falls over backwards because of it.
A shudder works through my body, not making my case, but I won’t be cowed. It might take every shred of strength I have, but I’m going to do this. I stand carefully in the shower, forgetting the towel and my now see-through clothes. Essos presses his hand to the small of my back, sending warmth through my body. When I lean into the touch, Essos pushes against me to prevent me from falling.
Awareness prickles through me as I notice what this morning has done to him. He’s soaked through, the way I am. Water is dripping from his hair onto his cheek while his suit is absolutely drenched. The white of his shirt is nearly transparent, and his chest is heaving.
My nipples are peaked as the fabric from my shirt brushes against them with each deep breath he takes, but not once do his eyes leave my face.
“I wish you would all stop treating me like some delicate flower. We’re going to continue with the day as planned. If you would kindly leave so I can get ready, it would be greatly appreciated.”
Essos steps away from me to help Sybil stand before bowing his head to me, relenting. This time when he looks at me, I think there might be pride in his eyes. Galen looks angry and like he wants to say more to me about this, but then he changes his mind. Before he goes, he sneaks an eyeful of my wet T-shirt, prompting a disgusted noise from Cat.
Essos watches his brother leave before looking at me. A towel appears in his hand, and he offers it to me. “Pleasetell me if you get any more headaches, even if you think it’s just a hangover.”
I nod. “Yes, of course.” I reach out to grab his hand. “Thank you, for everything,” I say, words not able to cover my gratitude.
“You can thank me by not dying.” He turns and leaves quickly, probably to change, but at the very least, to speak with Sybil about what happened.
Cat goes to follow, but I grab her arm and pull her close into a wet hug. She returns it, holding me just as tight, both of us lifelines in the dark.
Before she goes, she turns to look at me. “For what it’s worth, I’m not sure I trust Galen.”
She leaves before I can respond. I don’t know how to tell her that the memories feel so real, right there for me to grab on to. Is it because it’s more information than I’ve had since getting here? Is it because he’s filling a hole that I’ve been missing my entire life? Or is it just that Iwantto trust someone more than anything?
CHAPTER22
The schedule given to us by Sybil requires that we dress in all black, which fits my somber mood. I pour over my clothes, unsure what to wear, and find a black dress tucked deep into my closet. I pull it out, admiring it. It feels a bit formal, knowing what I do—that we’re headed to judge souls seeking a reprieve, but I slide it on, and it feels right. The underlayer is a mini-dress in pure black that ends mid-thigh, with a top layer of black lace that makes the dress high neck and floor length. I don high heels, even though I’m unsteady on them, and tug on the sheer sleeves, making sure they’re straight. Once my waves are swept back from my face, I look at my makeup and opt for heavy eyeliner and mascara and a dark red lip.
Today we are going to be standing beside the King of the Underworld, and we need to make an impression. It’s more than just for Sybil and Essos—it’s for the souls we’ll be seeing today, and the souls we may see again.
I find Cat and Zara waiting at the foot of the stairs. Cat wears a conservative black dress that’s form-fitting and falls to her knees, and Zara rocks a black bandage dress that hugs her every curve. Cat whistles at me, and Dave comes running, expecting a treat.
“Hot mamma! Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?” She takes my hand and makes me spin. She’s trying to cover the edge of concern in her voice with humor. I don’t want to discuss what happened earlier in front of anyone else, and I appreciate that she knows me well enough to leave it for a later conversation.
“You know that old saying, dress for the job you want? I figure if we’re trying to become Queen of the Underworld, it’s important to look the part.”
Zara looks furious that she didn’t think of it first. I don’t admit that I have an unfair advantage after last night.