Page 59 of A Prince So Cruel

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“Did it… work?” Arabis asked incredulously.

Kalyll glanced up, looking confused. Kryn seemed to reevaluate me, then slowly approached the prince.

“Stay away,” Arabis warned him.

Kryn ignored her. “Hey, is that you?”

The prince nodded, then peered up at me, his expression etched with gratitude. “It’s… working.” He managed a smile, a sad one.

I walked to the table and retrieved the journal and graphite stick. Approaching slowly, I asked him, “Is it safe to get close? I would like to take your vitals.”

Kalyll gave me a single nod.

Of course, he could be lying, pretending to be all right, but the bewildered expression on his face, the utter relief at not being controlled by whatever lived inside him, told me otherwise. I kneeled next to him as the others remained back, staring in awe.

“How do you feel?” I asked in a quiet voice.

“Strange. I was able to push the beast back. It’s still there, though.”

I glanced down at his bound wrist. “May I?”

He gave me a slow blink in assent.

I placed two fingers on his warm wrist and felt his pulse. It was strong and fast. I jotted down the number. Next, I checked his temperature by pressing a hand across his forehead. Those hypnotic eyes remained on my face the entire time, while I did my best to focus on my work.

“What time is it?” I asked the others, writing down his elevated temperature. “A clock would be useful in here.”

“It’s only a few minutes past noon,” Cylea said. “I’ll go find a clock.” She left, closing the door behind her.

“Why don’t you scoot back?” I suggested. “Lean your back against the wall. The weight of the chain might be easier to bear that way.”

“Let me help you.” Kryn came closer.

Kalyll’s head jerked in his friend’s direction, his eyes seeming to flicker as if that darkness was trying to push its way to the forefront. My lungs froze, and I didn’t dare move. Kryn put his hands up and stepped away.

The prince took a deep breath and the darkness receded. He bowed his head, eyes closed, as he took several more deep breaths. When he glanced up again, there was a ring of dark blue around his bottomless pupil.

“I don’t need help.” Kalyll stood with great effort, walked to the wall, then sat, reclining his back on the rough stone.

I glanced over my shoulder at the others and found that they were looking at me strangely. Kryn wore a deep frown, and I sensed he didn’t like one bit that Kalyll seemed comfortable with me, but not him.

Careful not to make any sudden movements, I kneeled by Kalyll’s side again and examined the ring around his waist.

“I’m worried all that pressure might hurt your hips,” I said.

“I’ll be fine. If it does, I’ll heal. If it doesn’t heal, I have you.” His tone was slow and intimate, as if he didn’t want the others to hear what he was saying, except with their Fae hearing, they were capturing every word, no doubt.

“You said you can still feel… the beast?” I asked tentatively, afraid that acknowledging its presence would bring the darkness forth again.

He nodded.

“And just now,” I gestured back with my chin to where Kryn stood, “it took over because… it felt threatened by Kryn? Or some other reason?”

Kalyll thought for a moment, then shrugged without giving me an answer.

“I want to understand how we can help you keep control, and what things we should avoid.”

Still, Kalyll provided no answer.


Tags: Ingrid Seymour Fantasy