Kros Voyeh Ch. 30

"Out of gratitude." She inclined her head, allowing the priest to remove the garment. "Lord Krouth was rubbing his temples and insisting I consult with him before making such gestures in the future."

The King snorted a laugh. "He's a good man and my brother was right to have him elevated."

"He may be right about the others, but neither one of us enjoys the politics of the Court. If he's recommending them it would almost certainly be for reasons of defense. Prince Burgath prefers people with different... qualities."

That made the King raise his brows and give her a curt nod. "That is true. In this case, I may prefer to go with Draeseth's instincts."

An awkward silence descended and she rubbed her arm through the fabric covering it.

"Does it hurt?"

"No, it just feels peculiar. The wound looks a little better every time I can bring myself to look at it but..."

"It is nearly time to wash it again." The brother sounded almost apologetic.

"I've wanted to see it." His Majesty rose from the seat. "I can face the window while you do whatever needs to be done for her modesty."

Lislora could feel her face flushing again as the priest started to undress her. "I would prefer Gharol to do this. She's the one who always-"

As if summoned the woman bustled into the room and dropped into a curtsy on seeing the King.

"Help her Grace." Rogath sounded amused. "Do you have any sisters, Lislora? Even if they were widows or Sisters I might consider them."

"No, your Majesty. My mother twice bore twins but they were early and very small, they didn't survive. An illness came through the Kroscur while she was pregnant the last time and she never managed to carry another child."

"I-" he cleared his throat, "I'm sorry to hear that."

Gharol helped her to strip down to the one-armed chemise and wrapped her with the blanket as she sat to have the dressing removed.

"I'm removing the dressing now, your Majesty," the brother frowned slightly as he spoke, unwrapping the wound. "The arm has been moved more today than usual. The dressing is rumpled."

"It's the first time I've put on a gown since I've been here." Lislora turned her head away not wanting to look.

The King came closer and she glanced up at his face. He'd gone a little pale.

"That would have killed my Kas. Or maimed her."

"I would do it again, your Majesty. For either one of them. They're my nieces and Princesses of Torga. I give you my word, as a Duchess, and as your brother's wife, I will do all in my power to keep them safe if you entrust them to me during the war."

"I'll hold you to that." Rogath looked away as the priest began washing the wound. "I'll have a wedding organized after my brother arrives. It will be small, but I will allow those attending to remove their mourning clothes for the occasion."

"I thank you, your Majesty. We need to formally adopt Hodrim as well. Perhaps it can be done at the same time."

"You should reconsider allowing him to become a priest. He would make a fine diplomat and now that Lady Isonei has returned to Ara, he can draw on her influence and use it on behalf of Torga."

"He wants to be a priest, your Majesty. Isonei and I are both very proud of him for his choice. I don't know if you remember the way your brother wept when King Orgath forbade him from joining the priesthood-" She remembered to hold still as the priest made a disapproving sound and resumed patting the wound dry to apply the salve.

"It would have been a waste and he'd have made a terrible priest." The King was grinning as he turned to face her again.

"That may be, but it wounded him! He wanted so badly to make his mother proud."

Rogath's smile faded and then he nodded slowly, "Perhaps he should have been allowed to realize it on his own. I don't think his mother was ever disappointed in him. I remember it being said that she doted on him."

"I suspect she coddled him in private and I'm grateful for it, the man is as gentle and loving as a kitten behind closed doors."

The King laughed and flushed slightly. "I d-"

A sharp rap came at the door and it opened before Gharol or the priest could do anything more than look at it. One of the younger women from the Queen's retinue had opened it and her Majesty came in with a sour look on her face.

"You didn't bother to dress?"

"She was dressed and waiting in her mourning clothes, Mother, but the wound needed to be tended to." He gestured and the Queen looked ill as she glanced at Lislora's shoulder. "I think he's nearly finished."

"I am, your Majesty." The priest gently applied the last of the salve and then began rewrapping her arm. "But her Grace shouldn't dress again today. It moves the shoulder too much."

"Allowances will be made." King Rogath gave his mother an expectant look and she sighed inclining her head.

"She will need to be dressed to take a place in my retinue."

"That is a generous offer, your Majesty." Lislora tried to put on a grateful smile, "I would be honored to be in your retinue whenever I'm at Court, but when my husband returns I hope we'll be going home to the Kroscur as promptly as possible. With all of the excitement and upset I think it would be best for my health, and my child's, to return to the quiet of the Kroscur. Until then I need to rest and heal."

Queen Deventha looked slightly more cheerful. "That would suit me better and satisfy appearances. You'll join us when you're next at Court." She inclined her head to King Rogath. "We should leave her to be tended to."

"Of course." With a wry smile, Rogath inclined his head. "Lislora, I'll send Ror and Kas to look in on you tomorrow. Kas may have already gone to your rooms to look over your dresses."

"I'll look forward to it, your Majesty."

Once the door closed, Lislora exhaled, "I thank Ganas for his mercy." At the baffled look from Gharol, she tried to explain, "Isonei enjoyed the Court and being in the retinue, I think I would chew my own arm off to escape the boredom and petty insults if I had to sit with the Queen for a week."

The maid covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. "Your rooms are ready for you to return when Lord Krouth says he thinks you're well enough, your Grace."

"Before I go back," she glanced at the priest who was studiously putting his supplies away, "If my husband will be returning shortly, I want to be certain that I'm permitted to..." She made a rolling motion with her good hand.

The man looked up in horror as if she were suggesting they engage in inappropriateness in the Temple. "Y-your Grace?"

"We'll be having a proper Torgan marriage and I want a proper wedding night. He'll want to be certain that it won't harm me or our son."

The man still looked slightly scandalized. "I'll ask the Halloc."

"That would be kind."

°°°°°°°°°°

Sitting as the man had painstakingly instructed her for the sketch, Lislora found it difficult not to fidget. Her days had been dull since she'd returned from the Temple and being compelled to stillness on top of it all, even for a short while was deeply annoying. The room was too quiet and Krouth sat patiently with Hodrim nearby.

"Perhaps we can have a portrait done of Hodrim and sent-"

"Your Grace..." For a moment she thought the man was going to snap his pencil. "I need you to remain still. Please."

"I can't speak-"

"Still, your Grace." He gave her a sharp look and she returned it until he rose and bowed in apology.

"Perhaps if you explain to her Grace what you're doing," Gharol offered helpfully from her place in the doorway, "Then she may find sitting easier."

With a sigh, the man inclined his head, "I need to get the shape of her Grace's face. Nothing else needs to be so exact, but it's difficult when she keeps moving or speaking. The way her shoulder is wrapped makes it look swollen, seating her at an angle reduces that and makes her look slimmer, more delicate-"

Lislora was opening her mouth to tell him that she didn't need to be painted as a slim, delicate woman but the door burst open, startling them all, and Draeseth's unkempt face broke into a grin on seeing her. "You're here!"

"I am." She returned his smile as she rose from her seat, "You're back early!"

He swept her up with a laugh, "Woman, I had no intention of letting those traitors keep me from my wife for a day longer than necessary. Gwaed and I have made certain that there's no threat to my brother's rule left willing to take up arms."

Her good arm was pinned the way he'd picked her up and he seemed to notice, putting her back down and running his hands over both her arms. With her good hand, she reached up and caressed his face, eyeing the black scruff and wrinkling her nose at the way he smelled.

"I haven't taken the time to shave since I left."

"He's wasted no time on anything since I've met him." A man's voice teased from the doorway. "To Lord Degreth's short-lived surprise."

"I have no patience for traitors." Draeseth smiled and turned to let her see a Karisian man in the doorway. "Gwaed, this is my Duchess, Lislora."

"An honor and a pleasure to meet you, Duchess." The older man bowed deeply. "His Highness spoke highly of you. I don't think I've ever heard a nobleman speak of his wife as fondly."

Krouth gave the man a sharp look but Draeseth laughed. "You'll be one soon if I have any say in the matter. You're the only reason Degreth didn't follow his father's command and give the city of Tsurhdalos over to the Phaethian soldiers Arrun had left waiting. It was Gwaed's decision to take command of the garrison and hold the city that kept me from being forced to lay a siege."

"As if I would allow Phaethian filth to take my home twice while I can still hold a weapon." The green-bronze skinned man grinned broadly.

"Have a care, Gwaed." Draeseth gave the man a sour look, "My nieces-"

"Your nieces are Torgan, as I am and as is my son. It doesn't matter what their mother was."

"It matters to Princess Ror," Hodrim spoke up cautiously. "She loved her mother and even if her uncle wanted to murder them it hurts her to hear her mother's people spoken of that way."

"Her mother's people have earned it, boy." Gwaed fixed the child with a hard look and Lislora took a step forward.

"The Princesses haven't." Hodrim tilted his chin up.

The man's eyes narrowed and Lislora spoke coolly, "Be very careful what you say to my adopted son next, especially as it concerns my nieces."

Gwaed glanced at her and took a step back. "I thought you were jesting when you said your wife was an intimidating woman."

"My flower attacked the Phaethian Prince and bloodied him while he was armed and she was not, in defense of my nieces."

"Your sons will be warriors without equal." The Karisian bowed low. "I will be more careful in expressing my opinions of Phaethians in the palace."

"Do." Draeseth cleared his throat, "How much have you been spending on the boy's clothes, my flower?"

Hodrim smiled shyly, as the man who had come to sketch her gave up and slipped out. The brown tunic the child wore was so dark it was nearly black and with the wide black belt, he looked very fine.

"Prince Burgath had it made for me, your Highness. He said my Alma spoke on his behalf before the Dagas and he wanted to repay her in some small way." He flushed slightly, "They were calling me Lord Hodrim, I think they were teasing me."

"When you've been formally adopted, you will be Lord Hodrim until you choose to become Brother Hodrim." Lislora beckoned for him to come closer. "They may be hoping you'll choose to remain Lord Hodrim."

"I don't want to be Lord Hodrim." The boy came obediently and glanced between her and Draeseth with a shy smile, "But, perhaps someday, I might be Halloc Hodrim."

"Kamrus Hodrim sounds better to me." She turned so that she could touch his cheek and brush a few strands of hair out of his face. "You have your Alma's talent for making difficult things easier. With time and devotion, I can't imagine you being less than a Kamrus. But I know that Isonei and I are both immensely proud of you already."

Hodrim's eyes dampened but before he could speak someone knocked on the door frame. Gharol approached as Gwaed eyed her curiously and took a missive from the servant. She carried it to Krouth who smiled as he read it, separating the pages.

"A day of surprises. You received a letter, Hodrim, carried with the royal correspondence. How well have you learned to read Aran?"

"Alma?" His face lit up as he rushed to the table.

"Your grandfather." Krouth laid a letter on the table smoothing it. "It's written in the informal script."

"What does it say?" Hodrim took a seat in front of the letter, studying it hopefully.

"He is not pleased that his daughter left you behind, despite her insistence that you're happy in Torga and that to remove you from your studies and bring you to Ara would make you miserable. He is willing to pay to have you brought to visit and to stay if you wish. House Ernelis was lessened when Prince Draeseth caused the death of Lady Isonei's brother, Ialath, and he feels it isn't a coincidence she found a son to adopt in Torga.

"Lord Eliorith wishes to meet his first grandchild and to bring him properly into his House. He says that your Alma loves you and misses you, and that you have family waiting to embrace you. Your Uncle Yornaith, whom you've met, and his brothers in House Iarmaris will be bringing most of the royal correspondence to the Dalcur. If you do not wish to leave your studies, he asks that Kamrus Rimathe, a man your Alma speaks highly of, permit you to spend time with your uncles."

Krouth paused, glancing at the missive that had come with the letter. "His Majesty would be pleased to send you, though it might mean that you leave your position as an attendant entirely and he would not agree to allow you to remain permanently. You could serve Torga as a diplomat. You would be Lord Hodrim of Torga, Son of House Ernelis."

The boy's face was split in a wide smile and he rubbed at his eyes, "I want to visit them but I don't want to leave my position."

"I suspect your grandfather will insist that you be called a Son of House Ernelis whether you become a priest or a Lord." The slim man rested a hand on Hodrim's shoulder. "He also admonished your second mother to care for you well and love you or to send you home to Ara."

"His home is in Torga with us!" Lislora's annoyed outburst made the child break into laughter. Draeseth made a soft sound of amusement as well and pulled her close against his side.

Hodrim turned with a beaming smile, "It is, Mother. But it feels... it feels wonderful and strange to know I have a home somewhere I've never been, if I want it. And I'll see Alma again."

"Lady Isonei had invited Kamrus Rimathe as well. She has some misgivings about the priesthood now but she still trusts and thinks well of some of them."

Draeseth cleared his throat. "Lord Krouth will you take young Hodrim and find something for the boy to do? Perhaps Gwaed will tell you of Tsurhdalos if you think the boy is old enough for such things. Gharol can attend you both. I want some time alone with my wife until my brother has me fetched."

"When is the last time you had a bath, husband?" She tried not to flush as he grinned down at her.

"I will have a bath drawn, your Grace," Gharol paused, "Should I have the second maid wait outside the rooms?"

"Where is she?" Lislora frowned slightly. The woman was barely present.

"I gave her a list of tasks for the day." Krouth smoothed his tunics. "The woman is a gossip, I want her in the rooms as little as possible."

"Outside the rooms is best." Draeseth's hand moved down her back. "I need to wash and shave. I may block the door to be certain I have a few moments of peace."

Krouth escorted Hodrim and Gwaed out of the room and Gharol bustled out to have the bath filled. Alone for a moment, Draeseth swept her up and grinned as he carried her into the bedroom, placing her on the bed and closing the door.

"You have the boy calling you 'Mother'? And my brother tells me you've been giving Krouth headaches?" He tugged off his outer tunic and untied the chain over his layer of leather.

"He's my adopted son, I want it done formally along with our marriage. And as for Krouth's headaches, I hadn't meant to cause them." Rubbing her arm idly as she watched him undress, she debated telling him to put his smelly clothes outside in the main room.

"He said you were being too generous in your gratitude."

"Perhaps. I didn't see the harm and I wanted to buy back Hodrim's ring to keep for him as an inheritance. He gave it in thanks for my recovery and Isonei's safety."

Draeseth made a soft sound and stepped forward to begin unpinning her the cloth covering her hair and pulling her hair down. With him so close she ran her hand up his side, smiling up at him.

"I'm happy you're back, my joy, even if you smell like you've been in and out of your armor without washing the entire time you've been gone."

"I rinsed, woman." He grinned down at her and began carefully unfastening her overdress. "Rogath spoke to Halloc Aurim. I was told you were asking about bedding me and having a proper wedding night. The Halloc wanted my brother to speak to me and perhaps use his authority as King to discourage me from bedding you enthusiastically. He said it should be safe as long as I take care not to exhaust you and I should be careful of your arm."

"I was told to have Gharol bind my arm to my side before we go to bed."

"Your husband can bind your arm, woman. I want my wife to bathe me and coddle me and let me do the same for her." Draeseth flushed slightly. "Let me show you how I've missed you, woman."

She could feel her face flushing, "I want that, my joy, but I don't want you to have to look at my shoulder. Let Gharol-"

Pushing her down gently, he kissed her until she was breathless, but as he tried to kiss his way down the side of her neck, she couldn't stifle a laugh from the unfamiliar feeling of the hair on his face.

"Shave first!"

"Krouth used to shave me. I haven't done it myself in years. I'll shave after, woman, to make certain I don't wound myself and need a Halloc to visit us."

"I'd offer to do it myself if I could use both of my hands, my joy." Lislora gave him a rueful smile.

"Let me undress you, my Kros Voyeh." He sat up and began unfastening her garments again.

She nearly pulled away, the thought of him seeing her shoulder and recoiling made her stomach knot.

"Woman, I have seen wounds before. It-" The sound of knocking on the door interrupted him. He rose and answered it with a silent scowl.

"Does her Grace need-"

"Her Grace needs nothing, only the water for the bath to be drawn."

"His Majesty has sent-"

Draeseth made a sound of annoyance in his throat and Lislora broke into laughter feeling perversely relieved.

"We may not get a moment alone until we return to the Kroscur, my joy."

"I will see that we do."

He stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him and she sat patiently for a short while. Gharol bustled in and made a face at the smell, ordering another maid to have the clothes taken out and laundered, and the chain to be put elsewhere.

"What did his Majesty send?"

"A barber, your Grace. His Highness has gone into the washing room to be shaved and to wash."

Smiling ruefully, Lislora nodded. "He wanted me to wash him."

"When your Grace's arm is better healed, Lord Krouth would chide me if I allowed it."

The Karisian woman assisted her in undressing, binding her arm, and pulling the robe over her to give her some modesty.

"I'll make certain there's a platter and wine on the table before I go, your Grace."

"That's thoughtful, Gharol. I thank you."

The maid beamed and dropped into a curtsy.

Lislora settled onto the bed to wait, resisting the urge to peek under her bandage to see how bad the wound looked today. It had been a few days since she'd risked a glance at it. The Hallocs and priests had all seemed pleased with the way it was healing, perhaps it no longer looked quite as horrifying.