Isla moved, and pain ripped down her middle. “Alcohol. Do you have ... alcohol?” She had never tried it, but it was rumored to help with pain.
In a moment, a bottle was in her hands, and she drank a large swig.
She immediately choked. Her throat burned. It was as if the liquid was eating through it. It turned out alcohol tasted exactly like it smelled. “Why don’t you have anything but alcohol in your room for pain?”
“Pain is useful,” he said quietly. He didn’t elaborate.
“It doesn’t feel very useful now,” she mumbled.
Grim looked down at her. It seemed to surprise them both when he said, “When I was seven, my training consisted of being cut and skinned until there was barely any flesh left on my back.”
Isla’s jaw went slack. Her training could be painful ... but to do that to a child? “That is barbaric.”
He only lifted a shoulder. “It was a custom here, for a very long time. Meant to toughen the body and mind at the height of its growth. The place I trained as a warrior ... we were punished for the smallest of infractions. In public. Shadows can turn into the sharpest, thinnest blades.”
“That’s humiliating.”
“It wasn’t. It was a chance to prove we didn’t react to the pain. Standing there, being cut, and not moving a muscle in your face ... It was seen as strength.” His eyes weren’t on her when he said, “My father would come and watch. It was an honor to show him that I had no reaction to the pain.”
She crinkled her nose. “You know how awful that sounds, right?”
He nodded. “It’s why that doesn’t happen anymore. Our training is still ruthless ... but not as cruel.”
Isla swallowed. What he had said about the punishment ... “But ... you don’t have any scars.” He only had one. And she had given it to him. “You have a Moonling healer, don’t you? Or Moonling healing supplies?” It didn’t make sense. “Why is Cleo helping you?”
Grim just looked at her. After a few moments, all he said was, “You should leave.”
She felt a bite of hurt and didn’t know why. He was asking her to leave his quarters, when she was injured. Why was she shocked? He didn’t care about her.
The second thing she needed from him. Isla collected her torn top from the floor and said, “Can you ... destroy this? I can’t bring it home. All the blood ...”
A moment later, the top was only ash.
She grabbed her starstick and, without another word, portaled back to her room.
In the middle of the night, she woke and almost screamed.
Grim was sitting across from her bed, watching her.
“What are you—”
“I’m making sure you don’t bleed out in your sleep,” he grumbled.
Isla looked down at her bandages. Blood was already peeking through again. She got a few rags she used to clean her swords and pressed them to her, so she wouldn’t stain her sheets. She would need to ask Grim to destroy them before he left.
“I’m fine,” she said, though she certainly wasn’t. All she could do was hope the bleeding stopped by the time her training started. “You can leave.”
Grim gave her a look that made her think he didn’t believe her for a second. He leaned back in the chaise he had decided to sit on. It was decorated with roses, and far too small, but he made himself comfortable and stretched his long legs out in front of him. “Your death would be most inconvenient. I’ll stay a little longer.”
“Inconvenient?” she said, scoffing at him.
He didn’t look fazed. “Inconvenient,” he repeated. “You are an investment.”
Her voice raised to a high pitch. “An investment?”
He continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “My time is valuable. I have a lot to do. Choosing to work with you ... fitting you into my plan. You are an investment. You’re no good to me dead.”
She glared at him.
