Page 56 of The Truth-Teller's Bargain
Nakir paced aroundthe Healer’s tent, pushing his hair behind his horns to try to stop himself from shaking.
“You’re going to wear a path in the dirt if you keep on with that,” Bernadea chided.
He didn’t stop. His mind was a tempest, the sight of Alethea’sunconscious form haunting him. “What were you thinking, bringing her in there, anyway?”
Dorian, a young man with sandy blond hair and brown eyes, attended to Alethea as she lay unconscious, the white bandage at her side tinged with dark red blood once more. He was Nakir’s finest Healer and the only one he trusted with her.
“She asked,” Nakir replied shortly, his tone sharp, unable to contain the frustration simmering beneath the surface.
“The girl was juststabbed,for Lilith’s sake.”
His temper flared. Every moment she spent unconscious grated on him. He’d already sent the rest away to take care of the mess that was his camp, but he couldn’t be convinced to leave her side.
“I noticed.”
“Aren’t you going to chastise me for giving her that Sending Ritual?” Bernadea was purposely provoking him, trying to give him something else to focus on to divert his attention from the gnawing worry.
“You and I both know that I won’t.” It wasn’t working, unfortunately.
“Very well. I’ll have to find another way to keep my trouble-making reputation.” The older woman chuckled. “Though if I had known what was to come... Ah, I would have still done the same thing. Look at you. You’re clearly attached to her.”
Nakir’s eyes narrowed, and he continued pacing, unable to stay still in the face of his worry. “I’m responsible for her. We made a bargain.”
“You’rein lovewith her, young man, and you know it.” Bernadea was unwavering.
He didn’t deny her, but his response was guarded. “It’s too soon to know anything like that.”
His Augur guffawed, her laughter echoing with a mix of wisdom and humor. “That didn’t stop your parents. It was loveat first sight for the two of them. I’ll never forget it. And it changed the kingdom.”
He swallowed thickly at the mention of his parents, pushing away the ever-present grief that haunted him like a ghost.
“I think Evanthia would have liked her.” Bernadea gently brushed a few stray hairs out of the Oracle’s face while the Healer continued his work.
Nakir had no biting remark for her. He couldn’t deny the truth of it. Alethea appeared almost peaceful as she lay there, oblivious to her surroundings. Vulnerable. He couldn’t fight his protective instincts. Hell, Nakir couldn’t even make himself leave her damn tent until he knew she was going to be all right.
“How is she progressing?” he asked the young Healer, trying to keep a lid on his temper. Dorian was a talented mage and had served Goran faithfully. He was the least deserving person for Nakir’s ire, but the man felt as though he were coming undone at the seams.
“She’ll survive. She may need to take it easy. I recommend she ride in a cart on the way to Meseira. She shouldn’t be straining or riding on horseback for several days.” Dorian uttered another few incantations before breathing a heavy sigh. “I’ve done what I can for now.”
“Very well. Thank you.”
“Of course.” The Healer stood and departed quickly. Nakir knew he had others to attend to. Though their losses were small, many of his soldiers had been injured.
“You can’t help it, can you?” Bernadea’s voice had softened to a tone that no longer irked him.
Nakir breathed a long, heavy sigh and sat down next to the Oracle. “I can’t explain it,” he admitted in a whisper. His gaze lingered on Alethea’s still form as he brushed his fingertips against her temple. “I never thought...” His voice trailed off, unable to articulate the storm of emotions churning within him.
“That she would be dropped into your life like this? That’show your mother felt about your father. She was engaged, you know, to Emre Volkan’s late older brother. But she met Lazaros and everything changed overnight. Your horns aren’t the only curse on Aeshma’s descendants. The Hasans are particularly known for their fierce, intense love. It burns within them like a flame. You know... in another world, the two of you might have been a smart political match.”
He snorted, side-eying the ancient woman with disbelief.
“Think about it. She would still be the only daughter of the Great Lord and Lady of Setta. You would be the handsome, eligible young prince. In another world...”
Nakir’s jaw tightened. There was no point in thinking about what might have been. Or what could never be. “She’s leaving when I take the throne,” he told the Augur flatly. “That’s the deal we made. Our bargain. She’s got a whole world to see... She doesn’t want to be queen, and the very last thing she needs in this world is to be tied to me.”
“And you don’t want to be king,” Bernadea countered, lowering her tone.
Nakir sighed.
