He released his grandmother’s hand to cling to a bedpost, then braced himself before peering down his nightshirt to see the damage.
There was scarring, or something like scarring. A smooth patch of pinkish, silvery skin, hard to miss, and yet not at all what such a wound should have looked like after only a few hours.
“If you’re going to chase after him, you’ll need to dress,” Grandmother’s opinion of this was evident in her crisp tone. “Or you could sit back and I can summon him.”
“If you do that, he will come, but only because of his oath.” Zelli firmed his grip on the bedpost before hauling himself to his feet, where he swayed until the room settled around him once again. “I will apologize and ensure he is rested. Then I’ll return here to…” Drink more draught and hide in bed until all his aches were gone, if that would ever happen.
“Well, you aren’t going like that.” Grandmother acceded to a request Zelli hadn’t made of her and got to her feet. “You will dress. Tahlen will not be any more pleased to discover you crossed the fortress to find him while in your night things.”
Tahlen had, in fact, once commented on Zelli’s nightclothes, so Zelli nodded.
Grandmother took off her robe and handed it to him. “Now, where are your boots?”
The two guards outside his room surprised him. Grandmother, on her way to her bedroom, did not explain them being within the family apartments instead of outside them. Nel and Lirra were just as surprised to see Zelli, or maybe to see Zelli in a robe and boots and probably sickly in appearance, but told him where he might find Tahlen. They also followed Zelli as he made his slow way outside, and stayed with him on his journey to the kitchens.
“Orders,” Lirra supplied, giving Zelli their arm for a while when Zelli stumbled. “As long as any Villucatto are here, even locked up, you’re to have a guard or two with you.”
“Orders from Grandmother?” Zelli wondered, only to receive two knowing, even chiding, looks.
Tahlen was not yet guard captain, but was giving orders that were obeyed even though most of the guards had been on duty since yesterday and had to be tired.
“When I reach the kitchens, you should both go rest if you need to,” Zelli told them at last.
“I think we’ll hear it from him first.” Nel answered with tact. “If you don’t mind.”
“Perfectly understandable,” Zelli agreed, out of breath. “The fae are a rare threat. Tahlen’s displeasure must be lived with every day.”
“As you say, Tialttyrin,” Lirra added, with a smile that Zelli caught when he turned to them incredulously.
Since Zelli had no response to that and too much on his mind to bother thinking of one, the three of them walked the rest of the way in silence.
It was just before dawn, the sky subtly lightening despite the fog, when Zelli left his escort outside and entered the kitchens.
He had to catch his breath and hold the wall to keep upright on his weak limbs. The kitchens were shockingly hot compared to the air outside, and he shuddered as he looked over the noisy, crowded space before him.
It was about the time when many were waking and seeking out breakfast, or ending their duties and grabbing a meal before heading to their rooms to rest. The kitchen staff would have been up for hours, making bread to take to the ovens or starting items for later meals. The long table sometimes used for food preparation was now filled with guards, both those sworn to the Tialttyrin family and those not yet sworn to anyone, along with a few members of the kitchen staff half-snoring into bowls of porridge.
Fy and Vint sat together at the start of the table, Let and Wain not far from them, with Bree wedged sleepily against Carr, who leaned against a displeased Gurn. Despite all the guards present, there was not a weapon to be seen except for the kitchen knives in use and the blade in Esrin’s belt.
Wain noticed Zelli before Zelli could finish following Esrin’s path through the room. He jerked upright, then raised his cup to the sky.
“Mountain Wolf!” he greeted Zelli with a cheer, bringing everyone else’s heads up.
“Zelli!” Fy called, then whistled. “You’re with us once again! And not dressed!”
Zelli barely noticed Fy’s leering grin or Vint rolling his eyes.
Esrin, at the far end of the table as she put a cup in front of Tahlen, stopped.
Tahlen’s eyes came up, meeting Zelli’s across the length of the table. He did not otherwise move.
The chatter around Zelli fell away or simply ceased to matter.
Tahlen looked weary, as Zelli had expected him to. He was in a loose shirt with no armor and had washed and shaved, probably at Esrin’s insistence, although something about him was off, as if he wasn’t as neatly put together as he should have been.
The plate in front of him wasn’t empty but wasn’t full; Tahlen had eaten, at least. Esrin should have less to worry over. When Tahlen didn’t speak, Zelli glanced to her.
Esrin dipped her gaze down over Zelli’s body in a pointed manner, which made Zelli drop his head to consider that his robe had come undone. Grandmother’s robe was of a dark purple, and recognizable as hers to at least Tahlen, if Tahlen cared to notice. But he, like everyone else, was probably wondering what Zelli was doing out of his sick bed in just a long shirt and boots, in a robe he hadn’t buttoned properly.
