Page 51 of Secrets of Avalon
"Everyone is fine, Domina. You did well defending yourself." He glances at the lifeless body and his jaw tightens. "This never should have happened. I should have been more vigilant."
Regret clouds his features briefly before determination takes over. “I'm proud of you and Siva. You both did well." He releases me and moves to scoop up the assassin's body. "Stay here, I'll take care of this."
As Kellan carries the assassin's body out of the room, I sink back into the rumpled bedding, breathing in the last faint traces of Hawke's scent that cling to the sheets. The adrenaline that had flooded my veins during the attack quickly dissipates, leaving me drained and trembling. A bone-deep weariness seeps into the core of my soul.
I curl into myself, hugging my knees to my chest. I killed someone else. My magick took another life. Who knows how far the blast reached and who else suffered because of my lack of control. Hot tears spill from my eyes. I bury my face against the pillow, desperately inhaling Hawke's lingering woodsy scent.
"Hawke," I whisper brokenly into the empty room. "I need you here with me."
Sobs wrack my body. Terror, relief, and loneliness intermingle into an churning wave of overwhelm. I miss my mother. My father. My family. I want to believe I belong here, but I’m hurting people here too.
I'm startled by the sound of footsteps approaching and look up to see Elen and Lydia entering, their arms laden with bundles of clothing. I quickly swipe at the tears streaking my cheeks, though I know it's futile to hide my blotchy mess of a face.
They walk carefully over the mess of broken furniture and decor like it isn’t there. Although Elen does give the sideways large copper tub a quick side-eye like she’s making sure it isn’t going to move again.
“Domina.” Elen settles next to me on the mattress. Her gentle hand comes to rest on my back, rubbing soothing circles. I lean into the connection even as the tears continue to slowly flow.
“I killed her. How many people did I hurt when I lost control?”
“None, but the one who deserved it. No one else is hurt, I promise.”
“Let’s get you dressed. There are four very anxious knights downstairs who are demanding to be let up to see you on Prince Stormblood’s orders. Master Kellan finally gave them pause when he told them you needed to dress.”
Elen's words barely register as a hollow ache settles into my chest. Hawke didn't come.
But if he sent the others… Did he know I needed him? Is it a coincidence?
"How did they even know to come?" I manage to choke out into the pillowcase. "I assumed Kellan taking care of her body.”
“Oh, he is,” Lydia chirps from across the room.
I look up from the bed, past Elen’s lap, and into Lydia’s kind eyes and nod shakily at her reassuring words, trying to let them sink in. The knights don't know what happened… we're keeping this contained for now. A small flicker of relief stirs.
But it's quickly extinguished by a new wave of anxiety. If one assassin infiltrated my private quarters this easily, could there be more? Sleeper agents lying in wait on Darkwood's orders?
My eyes dart around the room, suddenly seeing every shadow as a potential threat. The broken furniture takes on a more ominous appearance in my frazzled state. I flinch at every small noise, my grip tightening on the sheets until my knuckles crack under the pressure.
"Are you sure it's secure? That no one else got in?" I ask in a small voice, hating how frantic I sound but unable to control the rising panic. My magick ruffles, but Siva helps me and I push it back down without too much trouble. We make a good team.
Elen places a calming hand on my arm and looks me square in the eyes. "Breathe, Domina. You're safe now. Kellan has the entire tower on lockdown. No one else is getting in or out without his explicit orders and permission."
I focus on taking slow, deep breaths...in and out...willing my racing heart to steady. Elen's right, I need to get a grip. If there were any other visible threats, Kellan would’ve found them by now.
I begin to uncurl from my tight ball, the bedding falling away. My eyes catch on the piles of fresh clothing and I'm struck by the sudden need to rid myself of anything associated with this traumatic event.
"Help me get dressed, please," I murmur. I'm regaining my equilibrium moment by moment. And embracing the strange new experience of letting others care for me. Dress me. Protect me.
I’m not alone. I don’t have to do this alone.
They lead me to a clear space a few feet from the bed and begin to unwrap the bundles. The first piece they reveal is a flowing chiton, its fabric a rich shade of white with gold embroidery along the edges.
Lydia carefully takes the towel and blanket I slept in, leaving me feeling vulnerable for a moment. But she helps me into the chiton quickly before I have too much time to dwell on the lingering unease from the attack or about being naked and exposed. I shiver at the touch of the whisper-soft material sliding over my skin–though whether it’s from the delicate caress of the fabric or an aftershock of the trauma, I can't say.
They cinch the chiton at my waist with a golden belt, the rich material draping elegantly over my body. I run my hands along the flowing lines, feeling the simple power and comfort of the style. It's like wearing liquid grace.
Next, they bring out a pair of sandals, the leather straps intricately braided. Lydia kneels to lace them up my calves with deft motions. The new ritual of being dressed and adorned helps soothe the jagged edges of fear and self-doubt that have taken root.
Elen produces a box of jewelry. She selects a delicate gold necklace with a pendant shaped like a laurel wreath. She fastens it around my neck. Matching bracelets and earrings follow, the weight of the jewelry makes me feel regal... empowered…