You Are Mine (Mine #1)(56)
Time passes. More than I expected. Cynthia's face is scrunched with worry.
Beneath my hand, Bethany relaxes. Deep blue sparks dance across her. It looks more like a hex than a healing spell. I want to scream, but the lines are easing from her face. It's the only time I've ever asked for one of my sister's to be spelled instead of taking the hex for them. Yet, whatever he's doing must be helping, not hurting. I force myself not to move.
After a few minutes, the sparks disappear and Zade releases her hand. She stirs and opens her eyes.
“You're going to be pretty tired,” he says. “Rest here a while and then let Cynthia show you to your room. I'll have cook send something to eat. We'll have dinner together when you're feeling better.”
“Thank you,” Bethany says and closes her eyes again.
Zade glances at Cynthia. “If you need help, let one of the servants know.”
“I will.”
After watching me a moment, he leaves the room. Bethany's breathing deepens. Cynthia and I move to the side of the room.
“I think she fell asleep,” I say.
Cynthia nods. “He's a good-hearted man.”
Watching Bethany sleep, I can't help but feel the same. There has to be something to his statement that he wouldn't hurt us. Not only has he stayed true to it before he even made the promise, but he's gone farther by healing her. Something sparks within me.
Chapter Twenty-Three
I head for my room, but decide to search Zade out instead. Bethany was right to thank him and I should do the same. Is he back in his room or did he go to the study or gardens? The study is a place I'd prefer to avoid. Since he was in his room when I sought him out before, I head that way. A few hallways later, I find him staring at a portrait on the wall.
I move next to him. The portrait is of a woman, a rare one because she isn't pregnant, sitting next to a table of flowers, smiling. Her expression is so genuine, I can't help but wonder who she is.
“Chancellor Jacob's wife before she got sick,” he says.
“She's lovely.”
“Indeed. There's something I need to tell you.” He shifts, but continues staring at the picture. As I wait to hear, my trepidation increases. “Your sister's injury was a magical one. A potent, magical one. It's contained now.”
I twirl a stray lock of hair, then brush it back. “Would you please tell me about it, Zade?”
He turns to me, his brows lifted. “Are you sure you want to hear about it?”
No. “Yes.”
For a moment, his gaze pierces mine, like he knows I don't want to hear this, but I need to. “Very well. From the injury described, I was expecting to find a sprain or pulled muscle, something like that. There was nothing. Physically, your sister's fine. She hasn't had an injury in six months.”
She hasn't been beaten since I lived at Father's. The news should comfort me, but it doesn't.
“After I kept searching,” he continues, “I noticed an unusual type of magic all the way through her, with a high concentration around her leg.” He pauses to gauge my reaction. Despite my feelings, I keep my features schooled. “I studied the negative energy there and realized the magic surrounding all of her was a type of pain spell. She's been in constant, severe pain since the spell was cast.”
My stomach churns. I lean against the wall, wishing there was a place to sit down. “How long has she been suffering?”
“Don't know for sure, but it's been some time. There has been a little variance on the amount of pain.”
The sick feeling completely engulfs me. “I wish I'd never left the house.”
The hall is silent. I can't believe I said that out loud, no matter how true it is. Father's wrath was directed at me more often than not. And when it wasn't, I could usually get it there. It's not surprising he picked someone new with me gone. What else did I expect to happen?
Zade moves closer to me and puts a hand on my shoulder. “This isn't your fault.”
I clamp my jaw shut. He's wrong. All wrong. A few tears escape me. I clench my fist and hold my breath, but they keep coming. Soon, I'm crying in earnest.
He sweeps me into his arms and strides through the hall. What's he doing? I'm embarrassed, but the tears won't stop. I bury my head in my hands. With a twitch of his hand beneath my knees, a spell opens a door. He sits and pulls me close to him, rubbing my back.
My heart aches with tears. His actions only spur them on harder. Embarrassment fills me. Why can't I control myself? I've always been able to keep my tears under control. After a few painful minutes, they slow.
“I suspect you've needed to do that for far too long.” He tilts my face toward his. With a kerchief, he dabs at my tears. Something warm flickers in me. The warmth grows until heat burns my cheeks. I climb from his lap, as dignified as I can.
I clear my throat and sit on the couch opposite of him. The heat recedes, but not as quickly as I'd like. That can never happen again. Though I'm sure he won't forget my weakness, I act as though it never came. “Thank you for helping Bethany.”
“It was nothing. I wish it wasn't needed in the first place.”
“I'm grateful she's here now. We'll get her settled and hopefully things will be better.” I can't allow myself to think of what may be happening to my other sisters. It's out of my control.