In the following days, Leander and I fell into a pattern. In the morning, he’d unlock the door, hand me a breakfast tray, and I’d eat whatever bland cuisine the ship’s cook had prepared. Then, he’d unwrap my hand and I’d feel the warmth of the essencebound seep into my skin as he assessed the damage, and did what he could to help with the discomfort of unassisted healing.
As long as he was out in the hall, Leander would leave the door unlocked all day. If he ever had to step away, he’d lock it again. I assumed that maybe it was a small kindness on his part, to make me feel less trapped, but I never left the door open. I’d become comfortable in the confines of the room I knew, as opposed to the ship that I didn’t. When he’d lock the door for the night, I’d press my ear to the door to try and hear where he went afterwards, but his steps were so quiet that I could never even hear him walk away.
Outside of our morning and evening exchanges, we didn’t generally speak after the third day. So far, Leander had only proven himself to be kind, but I didn’t know or trust him. How did he come to work for my father? Leander was clearly told that he wasn’t allowed to mend my hand, so then why was an essencebound accompanying me? The man was too much of a mystery for me to be the one to breach the space between us, so I kept silent, and he kept his silence by extension.
It was painfully lonely without conversation to distract me, and depression settled heavy in my bones as the hours crawled by. I was a failure as a friend, and since I was such a disappointment as a daughter, my father was sending me off to breed like a cow. I refused to think of my future groom.
Knock knock.
The key twisted in the lock as the door pushed open. Leander stepped in with the usual breakfast tray in one hand, a bucket of clean water in the other, and a surprisingly clean-shaven face.
“Oh thank the gods.” I said, taking the tray and setting it on my trunk. “I started to think I wouldn’t be able to bathe again till we anchored.”
Leander offered a rare smile. “Well then, mistress, allow me to be your godsend.”
I could picture him as a boy when he smiled. A lanky child with half his dark hair pulled back with a tie, and the other half a windswept mess. The image felt right, like an intrinsic piece of information that just belonged, even though I had no way of confirming it.
“It’s been a week since the last time we washed that hand. I’d like to get to that first, and then I’ll leave you to your business.” Leander said, motioning to the trunk.
I agreed, and let him guide me, careful not to sit on the food. With days of practice, he knelt in front of me and untied the linen. With the bandage removed, his expression turned serious as he took in the coloration of the bruise and swollenness of the skin. The intensity of his expression was focused on my fractures, but my traitorous cheeks had begun to burn at the attention.
It wasn’t entirely my fault that I couldn’t help it. The other times I’d felt the simple touch of another was purely out of formality, or on the rare occasions I’d found a dance partner. Their touches never lingered as long as Leander’s did... I forced my gaze away from where he knelt, attempting to hide my traitorous cheeks as his magic began to probe beneath my skin.
“How long do broken hands take to heal?”
“Well, that depends.” He sounded distracted. “It can take eight to twelve weeks without any intervention, but much of the healing can be finished after three or four.” Gently, Leander rotated my wrist. “It’s still too early to know how well you’ll be able to use it. The nerves might not be the same.”
“It’s stopped throbbing since you’ve started tending to it.” I said, pulling him back to the present. “It’s more of a consistent ache now, thank you.”
Leander nodded, the warmth of his magic fading as he reached for the water bucket. He moved the rag along my skin, careful to avoid jarring me. I bit the inside of my cheek, hard, fighting against another wave of heat in my cheeks. How could he make something simple seem so intimate?! Were all healers like this? It was no wonder Covosna’s one physician always had a line of women waiting outside.
“How does it feel?” He asked.
I hadn’t even realized he’d finished until he let go. He’d even reapplied the splint and wrapped it back up while I’d been internally cursing myself for the blush.
“It feels fine.” I mumbled, glad that he hadn’t been privy to my thoughts in the last few minutes.
“Good.” Leander nodded, grabbing up the old linens from the floor as he stood and made his way back towards the door. “I’ll collect the bucket when you’re done.”
“Wait!”
He paused.
“I could... use some help.”
Leander’s eyes darted to the bucket, and then back to me. “Daelyn, I know I said I‘d help if you asked, but—”
“Not to bathe!” Oh gods this was humiliating. “I can’t wash my hair.” I picked up a limp strand. “It’s too long, and with one hand it’s going to be impossible. Can you help me?”
“As you wish. Sit in the middle.”
I pulled the bucket over with me and sat with my arms crossed over my knees. He then proceeded to gather up my hair, and positioned it so that the ends hung inside the lip of the bucket. Wordlessly, he scooped water out of the bucket to spill it over my scalp. I struggled not to move as the cold water dripped down my face and back. Most of it dripped its way off the tips of my hair to fall back into the bucket.
“Th—thank you for your help. I’m sure I would’ve soaked the floor by now.”
He chuckled, grabbing the soap and lathering his hands to then massage them into my scalp. I’d been genuine in my need for help, but now that he was actually doing it... it was quickly moving from embarrassing to pleasantly soothing.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
Unfortunately it was not helping my traitorous cheeks.
Leander worked efficiently, moving down the strands, pausing to pick something out. “I think I found a stick.”
“It probably is. It hasn’t been washed since.... that day.” I finished lamely.
His fingers stilled. “Do you wanna talk about it?”
I squeezed my legs tighter into my chest. “Not really.”
Leander made a noise of understanding before rinsing the soap out. His fingers lingered in my hair a moment longer than necessary, before wringing out the strands into the bucket.
There wasn’t much else to say after that, and I almost hated that he didn’t try to force me to share more. I did need to talk about it, I just didn’t know how to start.
“I’ll be out in the hall, just let me know if you need anything else.” Leander said, stepping out and shutting the door behind him.
Already partially soaked, I quickly removed my clothes, tossing the damp fabric aside. I scrubbed quickly, averting my eyes from my nakedness, and did my best to ignore the imagined smells of the forest. Clean, but cold, I crawled over to the trunk. Moving the food tray onto the floor and reaching a hand inside for my undergarments. My fingers brushed against something fuzzy, no, something furry. It moved. I froze.
A giant rat sat on top of my clothes and was actively chewing on one of my stockings. It didn’t even react to my touch, unconcerned for my presence until our eyes met. Then it bristled and hissed. It rose on its hindlegs, and underneath its belly, I saw that the pest had already done more than chew on my stocking.
Rage filled me as I saw a hole in the handkerchief Alexia had made me, right where one of the wings used to be! Before I could even think, my hand moved to strike it.
Instead of trying to avoid my hand, it jumped to meet it, and sunk its teeth into my skin. I let out a shriek of surprise, trying to shake it loose, but it only gripped harder, refusing to let go.
“Daelyn?!” Leander’s muffled voice called from the other side of the door in alarm.
A growl of frustration built in my throat as I desperately tried to dislodge the pest. Blood began to leak around the wound, mixing with the rodent’s saliva. The whole exchange happened in a second.
In my core, the warmth that taunted me with its useless presence suddenly surged forward out of its cage, the door blown wide open. As if it was reacting to my pain, anger, and need, the warmth lashed out of my body and wrapped around the essence of the rat.
“Let go!” I commanded on instinct.
It did. Dropping to the floor, it looked at me wide-eyed, like it was waiting.
“Shoo!” I snapped, and it cocked its head to the side, and I felt its curiosity at the request before scuttling off through the hole.
“Daelyn, what is going on in there?!” Leander's voice was much closer than it had been the first time, and I realized two things very quickly.
First, I was still completely naked.
And second, Leander was a moment away from realizing it too.
“Wait, don’t come in!” I cried out, but the door was already swinging open. I ran to the other side of the room, nearly diving for the blanket on the floor. He barged into the room with a sword drawn.
“What’s wrong—” His eyes swept up from my feet to the blanket that I had barely wrapped around myself. Fear turned to surprise and then embarrassment as he turned around and averted his eyes toward the ground.
“I heard you scream. Why were you screaming?! I thought something was attacking you.”
“Something did attack me!” I pointed at the corner, where my trunk was blocking the rat hole, but apparently hadn’t stopped the rat from getting in. “It was in my trunk.”
“Don’t tell me that you screamed because you found a mouse in your belongings.” He began to raise his head and turn back toward me.
“Stop! Don’t look!” I wanted to melt into the floor. “It wasn’t a mouse. Mice are small and cute, this was a rat!” I ground out.
A laugh ripped through him as Leander struggled to contain himself. “A rat?” He shook his head. “Which that shriek, I was half expecting you’d fallen and broke your other hand.“
“I’m glad one of us thinks that this is funny.” I muttered, because I certainly didn’t. The whole experience was mortifying. “As you can see, I’m clearly fine. Now leave so I can dress.”
He sheathed his blade, still chuckling. “Crisis averted then.” He swept his arms into a mock bow. “I apologize for barging in, mistress.”
He left as quickly as he’d come, and I finally let out a breath. My hand hurt. Lifting it up, I could see that a tiny drop of blood had begun to drip. I should’ve told Leander that I’d been bitten, that would’ve shut him up. I wasn’t afraid of rats, It just surprised me and I didn’t like them. I’d been doing just fine on my own until it had bitten me.
I cleaned the wound quickly in the bucket, and then opened the trunk much more carefully this time to pull out my undergarments. I dressed quickly, pulling yesterday's shirt and trousers back on, hoping that the beast wasn’t carrying any diseases.
I examined the hole that the rat had made in Alexia’s gift. I didn’t have the skill or supplies to fix the ruined handkerchief. I wanted to scream in frustration, but that wouldn’t help anything. My body was still hot from the interaction, still warm with the surge of... something. I’d felt it before, a whooshing that reached out of me. It felt powerful, but when had this happened before? I tried to remember as I attempted to comb through my hair.
The dog. I realized. But how? It was impossible.
I set down the comb and pulled the trunk away from the hole. I laid on my stomach to peer through it into the room next door. The rat was gone, but in my chest, the warmth was no longer contained. It felt as if there was a tiny thread of magic that flowed through the hole. I could feel the rat's presence, and knew it was nearby on the other side of the wall. The thread tethered the rat to me.
“Please come back.” I called out softly.
A pair of beady little eyes scuttled towards me as the rat rounded the corner and nearly collided with my face. It stopped itself just in time, and we both stared at one another in surprise. It rose up on its hindlegs, like it was just as curious about me as I was of it. Tentatively, I reached out my bitten hand.
“Climb onto my hand.” I commanded.
I could see its hesitation, and through our connection I could imagine its opinion was something along the lines of ‘I dislike this suggestion, greatly.’ But regardless of how it felt, the rat lowered back onto all fours and walked onto my outstretched hand.
“I do not like it here.” It seemed to say, before scuttling back off my hand and back through the hole. I expected it to keep running, but it stopped on the other side of the wall, and sat again like it was waiting.
My breakfast still sat untouched on the tray, long forgotten by the morning’s chaos. I pulled the tray closer, picked up a piece of dried meat, and tore off a small bite with my teeth. I’d been wrong about being bloodbound before, and it was impossible to place a bloodbinding on anything that wasn’t human, so I needed to be absolutely sure that this time, against all logic, I wasn’t going crazy.
“Climb up onto my shoulder, and this is yours.” I said, setting down the scrap I’d just torn in my teeth.
It was a request that no wild animal should understand, or do willingly. If the rat was brave enough to enter the room and take the meat, then it was possible that everything was an elaborate coincidence. But climbing up on my shoulder first would mean something more.
It quickly scurried up my side, and when I twisted my neck to look, it’s face was right next to mine.
“Meat now?” It was less the rat speaking, because it could not speak, and more that I could feel its intention coming through the bond. I knew what it wanted, without hearing anything.
“It’s yours.” I replied.
The rat squeaked happily as it scurried back down my arm, grabbed the meat and dragged it through the hole.
I watched it go in stunned silence, still feeling the thread that bound us like a piece of myself that extended past the room as it moved farther away. A tiny flame of hope lit in my chest with it.