“Marina?” he guessed tentatively.
She shook her head.
“Not Marina… is it Marine?” he tried again, frowning deeper.
Another shake of the head.
Impatient, I stepped forward and snatched the note from his hands. God, for someone whose profession was practically built around the most incomprehensible handwriting known to man, prescriptions, scrolls, and medicinal formulas-he was doing an absolutely shitty job deciphering a simple name.
I glanced at the note. OK, to be fair… I couldn’t really blame him. Her handwriting was rough, like a toddler just learning how to write. The letters were uneven, sprawling messily across the page.
I squinted hard, trying to make sense of it.
“Narine,” I muttered aloud.
Across the bed, she nodded.
“Narine…” I repeated softly, tasting the name like a sacred vow.
Maravek gave an awkward bow.
“My apologies, Narine,” he apologized gently. “Forgive my incompetence.”
He proceeded with a few more basic yes-or-no questions, gauging her awareness, and responsiveness. I watched silently, with my hands clenched behind my back, while inside my mind spun violently, concocting a thousand different ways to exact justice on the monsters who had done this to her.
Finally, Maravek began packing up his tools, and the nurses followed his lead.
He straightened, casting a glance at me.
“My work here is done, Your Highness,” he declared with a respectful bow. “If I may, I would like to discuss her condition with you in private.”
I gave a sharp nod. “Let’s talk in my study,” I replied.
Turning to Lupercus, who had been silently standing guard in the shadows. “Assign Hasmik to her,” I ordered. “She’ll serve as her lady-in-waiting.”
Lupercus nodded once and swiftly exited the room to fulfill my order.
I turned back to her, Narine. She had curled herself up tightly on the bed again, her small form nearly swallowed by the massive mattress. Carefully, I pulled the thick duvet up over her fragile body.
“I’ll be back soon,” I murmured quietly, though I doubted she heard, or cared.
There was no reaction.
With a final glance at her, I straightened and led Maravek out of the room, my heart was heavy with rage so consuming, it was a miracle the walls of the palace hadn’t already crumbled from it.
I would find the ones responsible. And by the gods, they would wish for death before I was done with them.
NARINE’S POV
All of this still felt like a cruel, elaborate nightmare. So vast, and so far beyond anything I can comprehend, I could hardly keep up.
It just didn’t make sense.
I watched silently as they all left, and the heavy door clicked shut behind them, leaving me in silence, my longtime best friend.
I took a trembling breath and finally allowed myself to look around.
The room was massive. It wasn’t just big, it was colossal, more luxurious and modern than anything I’d ever seen in my entire life. High vaulted ceilings crowned the space, adorned with intricate carvings of wolves and moons. The walls shimmered with polished stone and rich tapestries, and the enormous bed I lay on could easily fit five people with room to spare.
Thick velvet curtains were drawn partially back, allowing slivers of golden sunlight to bathe the room in warmth.
It felt surreal. Too surreal.
I curled my fingers into the soft duvet, grounding myself in the sensation.
I couldn’t bring myself to believe it. I was in the palace. Not just any palace, the palace of the revered Lycan King of Khragnir.
And somehow… I was in his bed. Under his care.
But why?
Why?
What did he want from me? What was his motive? No one ever did anything without wanting something in return, not for someone like me. I shut my eyes tightly, sucking in greedy mouthfuls of the fresh, clean air. Gosh… how much I’d missed it. The simple luxury of air that didn’t stink of rot and despair.
A sudden knock startled me, making my heart jolt painfully in my chest. Had he come back to show his true colors?
“I’m coming in, Your Gracious Majesty.” A soft, feminine voice floated through the door.
I blinked in confusion. Gracious Majesty? She must have thought Sargis was still inside.
The door creaked open, and in stepped a woman who seemed almost too beautiful to be real.
She was stunning, with thick, midnight-black hair cascading down her back, and eyes shaped like a fox’s. She moved with an easy grace, like someone who knew exactly who she was and feared nothing.
“My name is Hasmik,” she introduced warmly, bowing low. “I’ve been instructed to be your lady-in-waiting, Your Gracious Majesty.”
I stared at her, baffled. Lady-in-waiting? Gracious Majesty?
What game were they playing?
I pressed myself deeper into the bed as suspicion crept up my spine like cold fingers.
Were they mocking me? Were they pretending for some twisted entertainment?
Hasmik, seemingly oblivious to my internal turmoil, approached with a small smile.
“I brought along an iPad set to text-to-speech,” she explained, holding out a slim device, “to aid with communication… and a wireless bell alarm, in case you ever need me when I’m not close by.”
She placed them carefully on the bedside table, well within my reach, and stepped back respectfully.
I eyed the devices warily.
“Would you like to stay resting in bed,” she asked softly, “or would you love to watch the sun? It’s beautiful from the balcony.”
My ears perked up involuntarily. The word ‘sun’ hit me like a jolt to the chest.
“It’s alright if you don’t want to,” she whispered gently. “We can stay here as long as you want. But if you change your mind… the sun is waiting for you.”
I pointed weakly toward the window, I wanted to feel the sun.
Hasmik’s face brightened with a soft smile. “Of course,” She moved to my side, carefully sliding her arms beneath my underarms, offering her body for support without rushing me. I leaned into her gratefully, too exhausted and fragile to feel embarrassed by my dependence.
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