Jessamine
The water runs cold—too cold, but I allow it.
There's a persistent knocking on my door, echoing for the past hour, but I’m too tired to get out of the water. I shiver, teeth clattering, but I remain in the tub. The water around me is murky and dirty, and under my foot, I feel grapes. I didn’t bother getting out of the dress. It’s as filthy as I am.
Maybe the water will wash it all away—the tea, the blood, and my tears.
I doze off for a moment, and when I awaken, the water has risen from around my knees to my neck. The cold seeps into my skin, riding me of the horrible heat I feel within me. It’s comfortable, and so I rest.
Fingers on my face jolt me awake. I squint to find Alpha Kier's hard, hazel eyes peering down at me. "You're so cold," he mutters, cursing under his breath. He straightens, reaching fully into the tub. When I flinch, he pauses.
“Jessamine, I need to lift you out,” he tells me, and I stare at him, wondering why an Alpha bothers to ask a nobody like me for permission before he touches me. “Let me.”
I part my lips to speak, and my face crumples when my throat feels like I am shredding it with a knife. I want to tell him I’m alright. It was just tea and some. I’ve had worse, but oddly, I don’t feel good. Today’s event has thrown me several years back, and mother is there, within the decaying walls of our home, treating the wounds she inflicted on me with the whip.
My body shakes with fear, hate, and grief. My fingers grasp the edge of the tub, and I push myself out of the water, only to slip and fall back into it. Alpha Kier reaches for me, but I smack his hand off. I’m no weakling. I can at least get out of the tub myself.
He lets me try. Again and again, I fall, making a fool of myself until I break into a sob and try crawling out of it. I don’t look at him. I’m scared I’ll see pity in his eyes.
One more attempt, and I fall forward, bracing for the pain of hitting my head against the tub's edge. The impact is dulled because Alpha Kier slips his hand under my forehead before I can crack my skull. His warm fingers lift my face, and I see no pity or worry, only rage. It's a calming rage, like staring into roaring waters without hearing the waves. A blissful, dark calm settles over him as he brushes a tear from my cheek. "I'm sorry."
My lips quiver and I bite on them to hide it. I can’t muster a response, and even if I could, I can’t speak.
“They win if you let them break you.” The words tumble from him as he strokes my cheek softly. “I’m here. There’s a tub, and you’re soaking wet. Won’t you even try to seduce me a little?” When I don’t respond, he tries again. “I’m not used to seeing you this way. I don’t know…I don’t know how to comfort you. Shall I hold you or kiss you? Do you need anything?”
Sniffing, I turn a little and point at the soap bar and scented oils. His gaze flicks to them and returns to mine, humor brightening them and chasing the shadows away. “Lewd. You want me to…wash you?”
I smile a little and nod emphatically, wincing when the movement hurts my throat. I blink, waiting for him to refuse, because he’s going to. Am I lewd for taking advantage of the situation? I don’t know? He did nudge me in the direction of trying to seduce him.
My grief and anger flee when he chuckles and pulls me out of the tub, setting me down on my feet gently. He turns around then and reaches for the blocker in the drain, letting the water go. “Take off the dress. I won’t look, I promise.”
He’s going to?! Nervously, I reach for the ropes behind me, struggling for a while before I set myself free, and when I step out of the dress, all that shields me is a see-through chemise. Alpha Kier’s fingers thread on the surface of the clean water that now fills the tub, lathering it. His lips are tugged down and his brows are furrowed as he gives the water his full attention.
If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was trying to distract himself from me. I clasp my cold hands together, biting on my bottom lip again. Water drips from the chemise and it sticks to me like second skin. I shiver, hugging my chest to cover my nipples, and without looking at me, he says, “Get in.”
I slink into the tub, sinking in until the soap bubbles cover me up to my chin. Alpha Kier steps away, disappearing into my room. I lean my head back and close my eyes, taking in deep breaths. My eyes crack open when I hear near silent footsteps and feel fingers threading in my hair.
Jerking, I peer up and my red-cheeked Alpha. What are you doing? I ask him with my eyes and heart, hoping he can hear me.
He does, because his cheeks redden, spreading up to the tips of his ears. “I’ll…ah…” He shakes his head and laughs. He drops to the floor behind me on one knee and I turn, confused when I see my hair brush in his hand. What is he doing?
Alpha Kier nudges my head forward, and I shudder when his fingers adeptly thread through my hair, getting the food particles out and untangling each strand. I choke on a sob as he works in silence, untangling, brushing, massaging. The only other person who’s washed my hair was my mother. Alpha Kier’s hands are gentler than hers were, and the gesture makes me tear up.
And when he’s done washing my hair, he straightens, settling down the soap. “I’ll be right out if you need anything. Don’t stay in the water too long.”
I watch his back as he leaves, and if my throat wasn’t hurting so badly, I would have squealed. Though I don’t plan to, I fall asleep in the tub.
When I come to, I’m warm, enveloped in soft linen and tucked in snugly. There are bandages around my arm, and my body doesn’t hurt so much anymore. I peek under the duvet and I’m in my favorite night dress. I don’t even remember getting out of the tub. I look around. Perhaps, Alpha Kier dressed me, like he did the last time. He’s not in the room with me, but I hear arguing outside my door.
“You know how the meeting went, Kier. Their demands for retribution. You’ll turn the council and the pack against you if you keep this up. I cannot and WILL NOT obey this order.”
Beta Randale. I try straightening, but my ribs and body hurt.
Alpha Kier growled. “I’ll do it myself.”
“She’s a maid, Kier. They are the daughters of Alphas who have fought alongside you, sent you tributes yearly, alongside their strongest men to guard the borders and this castle. The Sunfire pack is the strongest today, not only because you are the strongest Alpha, but because of your influence and the support they continue to give you. Support that has begun to dwindle due to your decisions in the past week—”
“You saw,” the Alpha seethes. “You saw what they did to her. If I cannot defend her, one woman, one helpless woman, then I am not fit to be called King.”
Beta Randale’s voice softens. “This is politics, Kier. Turn a blind eye or you’ll lose.”
“Turning a blind eye will give them reason to repeat what they did today. I can’t let that happen again.”
“If she cannot handle a couple of entitled princesses bullying her, then she was never fit to be Luna anyway,” Beta Randale counters. “Being your Queen is no joke. She knew what she was getting into. This is not your fight, Kier. It’s hers. People died in the Hunt. Women died for you. If she’s going to cry because they threw cakes and berries at her, then she isn’t worth the hassle. Or going up against the council for.”
Silence falls as the Beta lets Alpha Kier consider. I smile a little, resting back against the pillows. He cares for me, I can tell, but Beta Randale is right. It isn’t the Alpha’s fight. I didn’t go through all of this only to get crushed by getting bullied. I knew I would be met with resistance. That I even survived the Hunt had to be a blessing, a sign that the Goddess wants me with Kier.
“I can’t just ignore it,” Alpha Kier sighs.
“You aren’t. You’ve had the physician tend to her wounds, and you, the busiest man in Neredia, spared his time for a maid. Surely, that’s more than enough.” Beta Randale pauses. “You like her?”
My blood heats and my stomach flutters as I wait eagerly for his response.
“I don’t. I pity her, is all.”
The heat in my blood dissipates, turning cold, and I stare at the ceiling blinking back tears. Pity? After all I’ve done? An amused sigh leaves my lips. It’s about time I switched things up anyway and did…nothing.
When he returns inside, I pretend to be asleep. I feel his presence on my left, and his gaze prickles my skin. He says nothing for a long time, simply standing and watching me sleep. Before he leaves, his fingers curl around mine softly, and he raises my hand, bringing my knuckles to his lips. “You’ve stolen my sanity, little witch.”
Not nearly enough, I think as he leaves my room.
The next morning, when I return from the bathroom, there’s another note on my bedstand. It reads:
Why did the Queen murder the King?
My fingers tremble, and I swallow, turning the note over. Surprisingly, the answer is scrawled in tiny letters at the edge of the note.
He caught on.