Chapter 165

Eli’s room was further down the hallway from the dining room than Kit’s own chambers, and around a corner. He also had a room in the guard’s quarters, but this one was closer, and she assumed it is where Cassius had brought him. When she arrived, she knocked lightly. There was no answer. The door wasn’t locked, so she let herself in.

He was lying on his stomach on his bed, his shirt off with some sort of poultice on his back. Kit gasped at the sight of multiple welts and bruises and felt the same rage from earlier welling up inside of her. She took a few deep breaths, thinking now wasn’t the time to let her anger consume her. That’s not what he needed, and it would do her little good to focus on that when clearly her mother had done something terrible to one of the men she loved.

His face was turned away from her, so she quietly walked around the other side of the bed. His breathing was even, and she watched the rise and fall for a moment, not wanting to disturb him if he were truly asleep but also wanting to let him know that she was there. A lock of brown hair fell across his forehead, and she wanted desperately to reach out and brush it aside, to make sure he didn’t have a fever, to make contact with him, but it seemed selfish of her to disrupt his slumber so she didn’t.

Without opening his eyes, in a hoarse whisper, Eli said, “I’m sorry, Kit.”

For a moment, she wasn’t sure if he actually knew she had entered the room or if he was just muttering in his sleep, but then one emerald green eye slit open, and he looked at her for a few seconds before closing it.

Kit swallowed hard, not sure how to respond, if she even should. She did reach out and brush that strand of hair out of his eyes, and while her fingertips were there, she couldn’t help but run them down the side of his handsome face. Even when he was pale as a ghost and as broken as she’d ever seen him, he was still one of the most perfect men she’d ever laid eyes on in every way she could think of.

She decided not to let her mother completely win this round. If she wanted to keep them apart, she’d have to try harder. Kit slid her slippers off and carefully climbed atop the mattress, lying down next to him but giving him plenty of room. She found his hand underneath his pillow and interlaced her fingers with his. At least that way, even if he was asleep, he would know he wasn’t alone.

Her thoughts were flooded with possibilities of how to handle this situation. The anger she felt toward her mother was almost impossible to contain. She was certain all of her men would tell her now was not the time to let it explode, that they’d need to be cautious. How she would ever find a way to keep a lid on it, Kit wasn’t sure, but it would take more strength than what she was currently capable of.

They needed a plan. It had crossed her mind several times that the others, the ones who’d been in this longer, probably already had something formulated. It wouldn’t be like Eli not to have already come up with a strategy for taking out the queen. Still, no one had made Kit aware of what they had in mind, and without the same amount of awareness of exactly what their assets were, what their accusations against Rona may be, and what they intended to do with the queen and those who stayed loyal to her, Kit was at a disadvantage.

Over the few weeks since she’d found out there was a revolution in the making, she had been paying better attention at the weekly meetings she attended. She wondered how many times the cooks had mentioned preparing so much food that went to waste when no nobility ate it, and Kit had not heard their unspoken words—while their own children were starving. She hadn’t heard the pleas in the eyes of the seamstresses and scullery maids who just wanted a decent wage so they could care for their families. Now that her eyes had been open to the suffering elsewhere, she understood much better that the carefully chosen words had another meaning behind them.

Kit had little doubt that these people would take her side when she rose up against her mother, but she didn’t know if they would be willing to stand and fight. Giving one’s voice to an issue was much different than sacrificing one’s life. It would be imperative to know just how many people were willing to make the ultimate sacrifice. She prayed that wouldn’t be necessary, but looking at what her mother was capable of, as it was laid out before her on the bed, was a firm reminder that Rona would not go quietly into the night.

Hours might’ve past before Kit realized that Eli was looking at her again. This time, his eyes were fully open, and he looked much more aware of the situation than he had before. She slid over and ran her hand down his cheek again. “How are you feeling?”

“As good as I look,” he whispered.

A giggle escaped her lips. “Then you must be feeling handsomely.”

He scoffed, obviously not agreeing with her but appreciating the compliment. “How long have you been here?”

“I have no idea,” she admitted. “Long enough.”

He swallowed hard, and she immediately looked around for a cup of water. There was one on the nightstand, so she brought it over, though she wasn’t exactly sure how comfortable it would be for him to sit up to drink it.

He didn’t. Only pushed up slightly off of the bed with a small groan, and Kit poured as much of the liquid between his parched lips as she could. When he nodded at her, she set it aside, and he collapsed back onto the mattress.

“Do you think the poultice needs changing?” she asked, looking at it more closely now that he was awake.

“I think it should be fine for a few more hours.” He seemed to have a bit of his strength back now. His voice wasn’t as raspy. “Kit, you really shouldn’t be here.”

“Why not?” She lay back down beside him, a little closer this time. “How could I possibly be anywhere else?”

“It’s not as bad as it looks. I’ll be fine in a day or two. They didn’t use the whip. Only a leather strap.”

“Oh, is that all? Well, if that’s the case, I’ll just assume you’re fine and pound you on the back a few times for good measure.” Even knowing it wasn’t the hellacious cat-o’-nine-tails didn’t make Kit feel any better. The idea of her mother having her guards tie Eli to a post and take turns beating the shite out of him made her want to stalk to her mother’s room and do the same to her, though Kit would probably choose the whip rather than the strap.

“We can’t let this undo us,” Eli said, his words pointed even if his voice wasn’t as strong as normal. “Kit, you have to control yourself.”

Her eyebrows raised of their own accord. Dropping her voice and leaning in closer to him, she asked, “How exactly do you expect me to do that? If I sit there, beside her, take my meals, smile at her asinine jokes, she’ll think she’s won.”