Broken Promise (The Broken Ones Book 3) (21 page)

Closing her eyes, she focused on calming
the sudden trembling coursing through her. Kei would come back. He would, and
he'd need her. She had to stay strong for him.

Once out of the tub, she borrowed a robe
from a peg to wear while she towel-dried her hair and then tried to brush the
knots out.

Leaving the robe on, since Roan had
promised her clothes, she paced the bedroom and took time to study the room. He
had an impressive collection of books but she wasn't sure if he'd be angry if she
took one down to read.

In wandering the room, she found her
boots tucked under a table, socks stuffed inside. Strange, but she wasn't going
to complain. The boots were one of the first things she'd bought, and she'd
barely gotten them worn in. A grin spread across her face when she found her
boot knives still safely sheathed inside each. Now if only she could find her
other weapons.

A knock at the door made her freeze.
Roan never knocked. "Miss? I've lunch!"

She let the boy in. He didn't say
another word as he quickly set a tray on the desk and hurried out again. She waited
for a little while, but eventually irritated Roan hadn't returned, started to
eat.

Of course she'd almost finished when he
walked in.

She stood as he turned to close the
door, eying the parcel tucked under his arm.

He frowned when he caught sight of her.
"You're wearing my robe."

"You're holding my clothes. I
hope," she added.

He held out the package. She took it
quickly and headed to the bed.

"You ate without me?"

"You're late."

"You're feeling better, I
see."

Placing the large parcel on the bed, she
sat beside it and gave him a small smile. "I am."

While he sat to eat, she opened the top
and picked up the small piece on top. Underclothes. With lace on the edge. The
next piece of clothing left her puzzled. A loose, sleeveless white shirt, more
underclothes she guessed, but with no support, she didn't see the point of it.
The dark green shirt below had a pretty scoop neck. Holding it up, she was
relieved to see it wasn't loose, but fitted with narrow sleeves. Lifting it
higher, she saw the strange bell cuffs, and realized it wasn't a shirt at all.

"You don't like it?"

She continued to stare. "You…you
bought me a
dress
?"

"You didn't want a dress?"

Turning to him, she shook her head
incredulously. "Was I wearing a dress? Wither me, I can't remember the
last time I wore one."

He shrugged and turned his attention
back to his food. "The seamstress said it was warm and the latest fashion.
You'll look nice in it."

"Nice?" Her voice rose.
"How am I supposed to fight in this?"

With a sigh, he turned to regard her
stonily. "You aren't to fight in it. You aren't to be fighting at all.
That is why you are here."

Pressing her lips together angrily, she
set the dress down. "Then how am I to practice?"

"Practice what?"

"Fighting!" Rotting Elf, was
he being so stubborn on purpose?

He rubbed his forehead, muttered
something under his breath, and then gestured toward the bathroom. "Go get
dressed."

Grinding her teeth, she gathered
everything up and stomped into the bathroom, slamming the door closed behind
her. Putting on the lacey bottoms and white shirt was easy enough, especially
as she hadn't bothered rebinding her ribs. She got the dress on but found
herself at a loss on how to do up the lacings on the back.

"Rotting Elf." She hollered
for Roan.

A moment later the door flung open and he
stared at her holding the dress to her chest. "What's wrong?"

"How do I do this up?"

He stared, blinked, and then withdrew,
slamming the door behind her. She cursed again, until she heard him yelling in
the hall. "Aya!"

Wonderful. Apparently she now got to
meet one of his women.

Aya was not what she expected. Human, in
her late twenties, the battle-scarred woman had short-cropped hair and dressed
like a man. Why couldn't Roan have gotten her clothes like that?

Seeing the problem, the woman rolled her
eyes and closed the door to the hall. "He wouldn't help?"

Aro snorted and shook her head.
"I'll trade you the dress for what you're wearing."

She got a crooked smile. "That's a
bad deal."

Grimacing, Aro turned her back.
"Rotting dresses. Why would he get me a dress?"

"He wants his woman to be pretty."

She snapped her head around. "I'm
not his anything!"

Aya held up her hands a moment, chuckled
at the fierceness she saw on Aro's face, and began tightening the laces. "Whatever
the situation may be, it is safer if people think you are," she said
quietly. "No one crosses Roan, or takes what's his."

Clenching her fists, Aro kept her mouth
closed until she hissed in pain as Aya jerked on the laces.

"Ribs still hurting?"

"Yes," she said through
gritted teeth. Had Aya been the one to tend her wounds, or were his people
talking about her?

"You heal fast."

She knew the woman was fishing for
information. What did others think, seeing her cuts and bruises heal faster
than humanly possible? Perhaps they thought her an Elf or Were. With her
strange Fey eyes, it wouldn't surprise her. Of course they'd never think her a
Fey. Her eyes weren't glowing and she wasn't trying to rip their throats out.

"Finished."

"Thank you, Aya."

"You should put up your hair."

"I don't think so."

Aya laughed and returned to whatever she'd
been doing. Aro turned to the mirror and sighed. She didn't recognize the young
woman looking back at her. Even with the bruises. She hated to admit the dress
looked pretty enough. The white shirt showed above the bodice and in back. She
ran her fingers through her hair and cursed. Looking pretty for Roan was the
last thing she needed, or wanted, to do.

When she came out, Roan had left again. She
glared at the door and borrowed one of his books to read in bed.

∞ ∞ ∞

The book wasn't interesting, so she
tried another. She read for a while and began drumming her fingers on its
cover. Wiping her brow, she threw off the blankets. The dress felt too tight.
Getting up, she put the book back and paced, shaking out her fidgety hands.

Sudden hot and cold flashes left her
sweating and pacing more quickly. She tried to sit for a while but soon found
her legs bouncing restlessly. Standing again, a wave of dizziness washed over
her, followed by a sense of nausea.

Kei's growing worry didn't help.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," she whispered to him and rubbed her forehead.
"Wither me, now I'm talking to myself."

Wincing in discomfort, she tried to
remember what she'd eaten for lunch. Maybe the smoked fish had been bad? She
hadn't felt so awful since the last time she'd eaten bad food. Lying down on
the cool floor helped a little, until staying still set her twitching and she
got up again.

The dress was too heavy, too hot, too
tight. It didn't matter which way she bent her arms, she couldn't reach where
Aya had tied it.

Opening the door, she peeked out into
the hall. Lamps hung at intervals and showed it much longer than she'd have
thought. She saw a door across from where she stood, and many more, indicating
a number of small rooms. Did Roan's men sleep here? Wherever here was.

The boy who'd brought her lunch sat
leaning against a wall and he scrambled to his feet when he saw her.

She turned and pointed at her back.
"Can you come undo this? I can't reach it."

Eyes wide, he shook his head vehemently.

Another hot flash washed over her, and she
swiped at her forehead, leaning against the doorframe. "I don't feel well
and would really like to take it off. Is Aya here?" The boy shook his head
again. "Is Roan?" Another head shake. She closed her eyes and bit
back a curse. "Can you just undo the knot? I can do the rest."

The boy bolted down the hall, and she
did curse. Closing the door, she rested her head against it for a moment. Who
invented such horrible clothing?

She paced again, wringing her now
tingling hands. Twice she stumbled to the bathroom to be sick. The second time,
she debated just staying in there. With only one light, it wasn't nearly as
bright, and the floor felt so cool against her face.

Roan found her there, curled up and shaking
on the floor.

As he picked her up, she weakly hit his
chest. "I can walk."

"I sincerely doubt that," he
muttered. "How long have you been like this?"

"After lunch. I think I ate
something bad."

"No, Arowyn. It wasn't something
you ate."

It took her a moment to understand what
he implied. "Rot," she muttered as he set her down on the bed.

"How do you feel?" Sitting
beside her, he set a hand on her forehead.

She tried to push it away. "I'm
hot…and cold. The dress is too tight, and I can't get the rotting thing
off."

"Roll over."

She did, letting out a sigh of relief as
he undid the lacings.

"I'm sorry you didn't like the
dress," he said quietly. "Most girls would."

"I'm not most girls."

"So I see. There, undone and I've
loosened the laces." He stood. "Do you want wine? Water?"

"Not yet." Sitting up, she let
out a big sigh of relief and stumbled to her feet.

"You should stay…"

His words trailed off as she shimmed out
of the dress, letting it puddle on the floor. Dropping back to the bed, she
bent, trying to pick it up.

"I'll…I'll get it. Rot, girl. You
could have warned me."

She barely had the energy to be amused
as she fell back into the pillows and closed her eyes. "Oh, please. It's
not like you haven't seen it before. I'm not naked."

He sighed, deeply.

A cold flash hit and she shivered. He
drew a blanket over her.

"How long does this last?"

He didn't answer and she opened her eyes
again. "Roan?"

"Until you take more."

She stared up at him, not understanding.

"You have to keep taking riath.
Less each time, and you'll try to go longer between each dose, until eventually
you can stop."

"No."

"That's how it's done. You can't
just stop. Your body won't handle it."

"No," she insisted more
firmly.

Once again he sat down beside her, this
time all gentleness gone. "We made an agreement that I would get you
through this."

"I didn't know–"

"And I have spent the last two days
trying to purchase some," he interrupted. His voice rose, growing hard and
making it clear no was not an answer he would accept. "It wasn't easy, and
it wasn't cheap. So you will take it, and you will get better.
Understood?"

Clenching her jaw, she shook her head.
"I promised," she said quietly. "I promised I wouldn't."

His eyes narrowed. "Who did you
promise?"

Her mouth opened and closed, and for a
moment, confusion left her without words. It hadn't been real, had it?

"Who, Arowyn?"

Her jaw trembled slightly and she turned
her head away. "Never mind. I…it was just a dream."

He stood. "I'll get it ready, then."

Pressing her palm against her forehead, she
squeezed her eyes closed, trying to fight the nausea and growing tremors so she
could think. Prince was in Rivenward, beyond the wardwall. There was no way she
could have spoken to him.

"It must have been a dream," she
whispered. Understanding that hurt more than anything else.

As Roan lifted the cup of drugged wine
to her lips, worry made her hesitate, and her eyes met his. What if he'd gotten
the dose wrong and she never woke up?

"Drink," he insisted.

Pulling her eyes away from his cold
regard, she did as he asked. Kei's comfort surrounded her, drowning out her
worry. Would she sleep for long this time? As the rainbows danced on the edges
of her vision, she wondered what Kei felt when she slept.

Warmth and calm spread through her. The
nausea faded and her shaking stopped.

"Sweet dreams, Arowyn."

A little spark of hope entered her
heart. Perhaps she'd dream of her prince again.

Chapter 19

Reliving the Past

Fluttering thoughts and confusion mixed
within her mind. The rainbows faded away and a great sadness replaced them.
Part of her knew this wasn't a good thing. The rest mournfully missed the happy
memories, and disappointment filled her. She'd had no special dreams of Prince.

She'd tried, many times. When nothing
came but memories of him, she tried to dream of Kei with no success. Thoughts
of why she hadn't been able to came and went. Perhaps she hadn't been given
enough riath, or maybe they hadn't been sleeping.

Muted sounds tickled her ears, but she
didn't struggle to wake up like the last time. She let her mind sort itself out
slowly and waited for feeling to come back to her body.

Though the bed curtain had been pulled
out, it didn't do much to muffle the sound of someone coming in. Her attention
wandered, assuming it to be Roan until it finally registered a quiet
conversation took place.

Tilting her head, she focused on
listening.

"And Vesrin?" She recognized
Roan's voice and fought the urge to spring out of bed at the topic of
conversation.

"He's still in the city," another
man said. "Haven't been able to find out where or what he's up to. Nothing
on the other Elf either. As far as we've been able to tell, no Elves have left
the city in the last few days. A couple have come in, like I said before."

"I want to know immediately of
anything concerning Vesrin. He knows I have her, and given the situation I
don't see him sitting idly by."

"We'll hear something eventually.
Coins talk." The other man paused. "There's some muttering among the
other Elves. They know something's happened."

"As long as they don't side with
him, they shouldn't be an issue."

"True enough. Will they? Should I
put more men on them?"

"Not unless you hear something.
We're spread thin enough as it is."

"Very well, Captain. If you don't
mind me saying, this is an awful lot of trouble for one girl."

"She's not just some girl,
Jalan."

The other man huffed his agreement.
"Elves don't abduct and torture random human women."

"The Elves want her. The Were are
searching for her. I have her. I need your men to be on their guard."

The other man agreed, and the topic
changed to boring details of wages and shifts. Aro stared up at the bed canopy.
She didn't know much about power and politics but now understood why Roan
helped her. She was something others wanted. A whispered curse slipped through
her lips. She'd agreed to stay with him, and he effectively had control over
her, which gave him the power.

Right now, there wasn't a lot she could
do about it. It would, however, be wise for her to remember not to trust the
pirate. Clearly he had more than her best interests at heart. He would use her
if he could, and she didn't doubt the possibility that she wouldn't even
realize it. Likely he'd been playing this game longer than she'd been alive.

By the time she sorted out her thoughts,
the other man left and the occasional sound of shuffling papers was all she
heard.

The lamp on Roan's bedside table had
been left on low, allowing her to see the robe draped across the end of the bed
when she sat up. A quiet amused noise sputtered out of her lips. He slept naked,
and gave her almost nothing to wear to bed, yet still made a fuss otherwise?

She awkwardly pulled on the robe while
sitting before pulling the curtain back. Getting up slowly, she wobbled on her
feet as the room spun. Fighting for balance, she stumbled to the side to grab
the bedpost for support.

"Good afternoon."

She mumbled a response, trying to keep
to her feet. When the room stopped spinning, she put all her attention on not
falling on her face as she headed to the bathroom. Quick steps left her banging
into the door, and uncoordinated hands struggled with the latch as she cursed
under her breath.

Roan didn't offer any assistance.

After using the privy and washing up
quickly, she felt a bit more like herself. Walking back into the room and heading
for his desk, she stopped suddenly. Her normal chair wasn't there. For a long
moment she just stared at the empty spot. Her mind certainly wasn't functioning
properly yet.

"Have a seat."

She turned her attention to Roan,
blinking at him blankly until he gestured to the chairs in the sitting area to
her right. Taking slow steps, she eyed the arrangement of chairs around a low
table. Sit facing him or the door? The door, of course. Bo had taught her that.
Bo…

Her feet stopped moving as her throat
constricted with a held in sob. Tears burned her eyes, but she blinked them
away quickly, and sniffed. Lifting her chin, she moved toward her chosen seat.

"Not there," Roan ordered
quietly. "I want to see more than the back of your head."

Grimacing, she took the closest chair
facing him and gratefully collapsed into it. Pulling the robe tightly around
her, she tucked her feet up and covered them as well. Why didn't he have a
rotting fireplace?

"Such manners. Put your feet down,
Arowyn."

She'd had enough of his cold demeanor.
Glaring at him, she didn't move. "They're cold. This whole room is
freezing. I don't have any clothes and–"

"Is something wrong?"

Her brows drew together and she frowned
in confusion.

"Your eyes are red," he
explained. "Is something wrong?"

Pressing her lips together tightly, she
shook her head and looked away.

"Don't lie to me. When I ask you a
question, you are to answer, and to give me the truth."

Rot.                                

"Everything is wrong," she
finally answered quietly. "Where would you like me to start?" The
last she said flippantly and didn't expect him to reply.

"At the beginning." His
immediate answer both surprised and dismayed her. "First though, you will
eat and get dressed."

Eating she didn't have a problem with,
the dress…yes she did. "I don't like dresses. I can't–"

"Fight. I know. We've had this
discussion."

"Stop interrupting me!"

"Stop repeating yourself."

He made her so angry she felt the fury
within her stir. "They aren't comfortable."

Sighing, he rubbed at his eyes with one
hand, clearly irritated. "Just put it on. I will be working from here all
day, and likely my men will be coming and going."

She didn't really care. The robe was
much more comfortable. However, their argument hurt her head. "Fine,"
she snapped.

After letting her fume for a while, he brought
her food. Getting something into her stomach made her feel a bit better. She
returned to the bathroom to get dressed, not surprised to find an annoyed Aya
arrive to do up her laces. They didn't speak much this time, which was fine
with Aro.

Returning to the main room, she found
her boots and socks and sat on the floor to put them on, flashing another glare
at Roan, just daring him to speak.

Shaking his head, he mumbled under his
breath and went back to whatever he was working on.

The boots reminded her of something
else. "Do you have my weapons?"

He didn't look up. "Yes. They are
safe."

"Can I–"

"Come sit. We've much to
discuss."

Grinding her teeth, she stood and returned
to her chair, loudly, stomping her boots with each step.

"Don't be so childish, Arowyn."

"Stop telling me what to do."

Leaning back in his chair, he clasped
his hands behind his head and regarded her silently. She stared back, wanting
him to know she wasn't afraid of him.

"So," he finally said.
"You survived another sleep. The dose seems to have been a good amount.
You only slept about a day and half total." Lowering his hands, he leaned
forward to look at something on his desk. "You didn't experience the withdrawals
for a day and a half, and managed to wait almost half a day before you took
more. So, we shall see how you do this time."

She grimaced. "That wasn't
pleasant."

"No, I imagine not."

Her eyes narrowed. "Have you done
this before? Helped someone get over this…addiction?"

"No." When she opened her
mouth to reply he continued, "However, my men and I gathered much
information on the subject."

"So I'll get better. You aren't
going to accidently kill me?"

"That is highly unlikely."

She didn't miss the slight twitch of his
lips. "But possible."

"We've discussed how you are an
unusual case."

She had no reply to that.

"Do you trust me, Arowyn?"

"No," she said immediately.

He laughed darkly. "You are
learning something then."

She snorted.

"You've spent too much time in the
company of men. Ladies do not snort."

"I'm not a lady, and never said I was."

He let out a weary sigh. "Never
mind. Now. Let's get started."

"On?"

"Start at the beginning. Tell me
about you. Your life, your family, growing up. All of that."

"Wither me," she muttered,
shaking her head. However, she'd made a deal, no matter how much she regretted
it now. Perhaps it had been fair; protecting her might not be an easy task.

Reliving her past would certainly not be
easy for her.

∞ ∞ ∞

After an awkward start, she found a way
to distance herself from her words. She told Roan about her father and
brothers. She spoke of Kingsport and their house, of the men going off to fight
and her lessons and her desire to join them one day. Though she tried to keep
the telling short, he occasionally asked questions.

Time went by quickly. Before she knew it
she was telling him of the attack on the city, the fighting, the panic, and
getting knocked out. She stopped there, staring off into nothing.

"What happened next?"

It took her a while to find her voice
again, but for once he seemed patient to wait. "I woke up in chains. On a
slave ship." A shudder ran through her, the memory suddenly too close and
painful.

Standing, he went to a shelf and poured her
something to drink. Bringing it to her, he then sat across from her. "Go
on."

She took a sip. Unfortunately it was
only wine. Something stronger would have tasted a lot better right then. Roan
listened in quiet fascination as she told him about the ship, the boys she met
there, and how they escaped.

He actually cursed when a knock at the
door stopped the story. Twice more they were interrupted. While he dealt with someone
bringing more paperwork and talk of a shipment, she closed her eyes. She'd told
up to when they'd wintered in one of the northern cities and the sickness
there. The interruption came at a good time. She didn't want to speak of
Avery's death. Finishing the glass of wine, she stood and went to poor herself
another. Roan frowned over at her, but she didn't really care.

Too soon he was back, and she started
again, her words clipped and distant as she tried not to live that time over
again. Another knock on the door halted her tale when they had just escaped the
city under siege.

"I'd heard of the fall of
Overfell," he said, sitting once again. "Unfortunate you were
there."

Unfortunate wasn't quite the word she
would use to describe that time.

His eyebrows rose at the sour look on
her face. "You all escaped. Continue."

Shifting uncomfortably, she called him
every foul name she could think of. In her head. "There was fighting
outside the walls. We got split up. Cain and I ran into the fields but we were
chased. Cain…Cain…" Looking up at the ceiling, she took a shaky breath.
"Cain was killed."

"Ah, you lost another of your
comrades."

His calm words infuriated her. "He was
my brother! My family!"

Roan cocked his head to one side.
"You'd known him only a few months."

"After everything we went through
together…We were always there for each other." She shook her head.
"Words, a story like this, can't describe what grew between us all in that
time."

He remained quiet, though whether to
allow her to collect herself, or if he was just thinking, she didn't know.

"When was this?"

"I don't…" She frowned, thinking.
"Four months ago maybe."

"His death still hurts you."

"Of course it does." They all
did. They always would.

"I believe it is about time for
dinner. I'll return shortly."

Nodding, she didn't watch him leave.
Closing her eyes, she fought to keep tears away. She refused to let him see her
cry.