Inessa gave a few gentle knocks on Martin’s study.

“Come, Inessa,” he said from within.

She frowned. He was starting to recognize her knocks. She opened the door and walked in before curtseying.

“Forgive me, sir,” Inessa said.

“Martin,” he corrected.

“Oh, yes. Sorry. I just…” she placed her hands delicately in front of her, keeping her eyes to the floor, doing her part. “I know the timing is terrible. You are an incredibly busy man, now more than ever. I wanted to ask if you would be doing the examinations tomorrow or if I should go to Beatriz, the female healer again.”

Martin glanced up, studying her, before looking at the closed door. He sighed before he got up from his chair and walked over to one of the shelves and pulled out a huge folder with all the information. “Let’s do this now.”

“Now? Are you certain?” Inessa asked.

“Yes. It shouldn’t take long. I’d like to do a quick examination every day until…” Martin trailed off, and Inessa let him. He set the folder down on his desk before turning toward her. “May I?” he asked, raising his hands toward her head.

Inessa gave him a confused look. Beatriz never asked permission. She simply examined her. Inessa nodded, closing her eyes as Martin touched her temples. She couldn’t sense it. Maybe she would have if she had healing powers. It was an examination of her body instead of a healing, so she couldn’t feel the skin stitch together or the bones fusing again. Martin released her and smiled weakly before returning to his desk and pulling out a fresh sheet of paper. “Things are in order.” He wrote down some squiggles and lines as well as a few numbers. Numbers she at least knew, but nothing more than what they looked like. “And if I’m right-” Martin pulled out his calendar, counting the number of days. “Here.” He circled the date about two weeks away.

“Would you like me to remind you on that date of our-”

“Yes, yes.” He pulled out a fresh piece of paper and began writing notes. She watched in amazement as the tidy handwriting spilled out of the quill in his hand. Words and reading made sense to the other nobility, but it still made her wonder how it could be. That this strange language was somehow a copy of what she spoke.

“Do you require anything else of me, Martin?”

“No, that will be all. Come tomorrow night, and we shall do the same.”

Inessa curtseyed before leaving Martin’s study. Again, she asked for some wine, excused her servants, placed the glass on the table as she rooted through the mementos and grabbed the drawstring bag before giving her reflection a good stare in the mirror. Things were changing now. Martin was taking a deeper role in this. True, he was still treating it awkwardly, but his skill as a healer was unmatched, since he was the High Elder.

But this was the first time he took over. He wouldn’t know what to look for. If she was careful, she still had another few months to prolong this pregnancy. Because she knew, eventually, she would have to get pregnant. She couldn’t go back to Fadrique. That sounded worse than going home in disgrace. She could give herself a few more months of this freedom before she got pregnant. Before she would have to mother a child.

Inessa shook her head, placing a healthy scoop of powder in her wine and swirled her glass, watching the powder disappear before she drained every last drop. She pulled the powder through her body, letting it find the egg, and filled it before Martin could.

***

Indenuel woke up when the servants pulled back the curtains. He didn’t know when he had finally gone to bed, but he didn’t get nearly as much sleep as he wanted. He spent most of the night meditating, easing the corruption out of his soul.

Once the curtains were pulled back, Indenuel ordered the servants and Pablo out, requesting to dress privately. Tolomon stood in the corner waiting, watching as they all filed out to get him breakfast. Indenuel knew he couldn’t trust Tolomon, so as soon as the door closed, he gathered his clothes and moved closer to the door so Tolomon wouldn’t try to open it while he was in the middle of changing.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Even still, Indenuel changed quickly. He paused enough to check the progress he’d made on his marks. Before they were an angry, almost blood red. Now they were more rose colored. Still a deep red, but not nearly as dangerous. Honestly, he was pleased with his progress, but still had a lot more work. He chose a darker color shirt that would be harder to notice.

Once he was done, he smoothed out his shirt, pressing it tight against him to check the visibility as Tolomon walked up to him.

“Good morning, Indenuel,” he said. He waited for Tolomon to make a move, but he did nothing.

“Good morning.”

“Did you sleep well?” Tolomon asked.

“I spent most of the time meditating.”

“I saw. The lines aren’t nearly as red. I am impressed,” Tolomon said.

Some of the tension eased from Indenuel’s shoulders. “Thanks.” He turned toward the door. “Pablo, you may come in now.”

Indenuel was shirtless faster than he had time to comprehend. He stared at his bare chest in a moment of complete shock before he realized Tolomon was tying his hands behind him with what remained of his shirt. “What-” Indenuel started to say before he was pushed toward the opening door.

False sense of security! How many times are you going to fall for that! He screamed at himself.

“No! No Pablo! Not ready yet! Sorry,” Indenuel said, running against the door to help close it tight.

“Oh, is everything alright?” Pablo asked.

“Perfectly fine. Everything is perfectly fine!” Indenuel struggled against his shirt, but his hands wouldn’t budge. Tolomon looked as though this was any other regular day. “What the hell is this?” he hissed at his bodyguard, trying to break free. The man shrugged.

“Well, you let me know when you’re ready!” Pablo said cheerily from the door.

Indenuel grunted, trying to get his arms free. “I will! Just a moment!” He gave another tug at his arms, but they were tied tight. He moved away from the door so Pablo wouldn’t hear him grunting. Indenuel couldn’t even feel the knot. “Dammit, how’d you do that so fast?”

Tolomon shrugged again as he leaned against the wall, folding his arms. There would be no point asking him for any help. Indenuel reached over, trying to grab his sword. If he couldn’t force his way out of this, he’d have to cut it. He pulled out his sword, but it was too big, and it was a struggle to get it all the way out of the sheath. Tolomon continued to wait by the door.

“Have breakfast ready soon, Pablo. Indenuel is almost dressed,” Tolomon called toward the door.

“Do not, under any circumstances, come in unless I am the one to tell you! And Tolomon, do not open the door!” Indenuel shouted from his spot by the bed as he tried to use it to ease the sword out of its sheath, which ended in a nice gash across his forearm and a string of swear words.

“Are you certain everything is fine in there?” Pablo asked.

“Of course everything is fine!” Indenuel said sounding far angrier than he intended. Indenuel swore again before trying to ease his dagger out of the sheath before it promptly dropped to the floor. He eased himself on the ground, trying to grab it.

“Alright,” Pablo said, sounding quite confused. “I shall await your orders, sir.”

Indenuel grabbed the dagger. “Thank you, Pablo! So glad there is someone in this household I can trust.” It was clumsy work, and he failed a couple times to get the dagger steady enough to cut the shirt without also cutting his arms in the process.

“You know, sir, if it would be beneficial, maybe we could go over the plan for the day through the door?” Pablo asked.

The dagger once again slipped from his grasp and Tolomon kicked it under the bed. Indenuel glared at him, and Tolomon tried way too hard to look innocent. “Yes, Pablo. That sounds good. I’m listening.”

He listened to Pablo go over the schedule, which was rather short. Train with Captain Luiz, come back for lunch and dinner. He shimmied himself under his bed, finding the dagger.

“Would you like me to schedule in anything for you, sir? Some visits with other nobility perhaps?” Pablo asked through the door.

“No. I intend to be in my study for most of the day and I do not want to be disturbed," Indenuel said, trying not to sound out of breath. “I would like to spend the time meditating, so if there is any strong incense to help, I would appreciate those to be ready in my study.”

"I shall make a note of that.”

Indenuel managed to make a good, satisfying tear in his shirt with the dagger before he was able to rip the rest of it away. He gave a sigh before scooting out from under the bed and standing, brushing himself off. His arms were in a bad state. Tolomon gave him an indifferent stare.

“I need you to heal my arms,” Indenuel said, hating that he had to ask this. Tolomon continued to stare at him, doing nothing to indicate he’d even heard. “Do what I say, damn you.”

Tolomon hesitated another moment before reaching forward and touching his arms, closing his eyes. He did not have strong healing power, but it worked well enough. The cuts weren’t deep, but they did bleed a lot. Indenuel rinsed off his arms quickly before catching the new shirt Tolomon threw at him. Indenuel double checked the shirt and saw it was a thin white one. He glared at Tolomon before finding another dark shirt and stuffing it on himself.

“Alright, Pablo. You may come in now,” he said, staying far away from Tolomon.

Pablo walked in, and despite the torn shirt on the floor and the droplets of blood, he acted as though this was not a strange occurrence. “Good to see you awake, sir. Breakfast is waiting for you in the dining hall.”

Indenuel nodded as he followed Tolomon out of his room.