Dream a little, Dream of me

Heart made of glass, my mind of stone

It was time consuming; to find a clean room . But after spending an hour or two, on dizzy feet, she located on single bedroom, that was untouched in a farther wing. The poster bed was untouched as if no one had slept on it for centuries. The window with the expensive looking curtains. The vanity to the side with a mirror. A desk in the corner. An armoire and a chest. Two rugs on the floor, two expensive rugs. Despite its simplicity it was grand. The size was huge. And the bed was huge too. The bed sheets were clean and looked cozy. She wanted to jump in and sleep, but with Nicholas in her arms, she couldn't. And also there was a couch to the side.
She placed Nicholas on the desk, and placed the bandages too. And then she threw open the curtains to let the light in. Not having the time to gaze at the scenery she turned to the armoire, there were piles of gowns in there. And also a few tunics. She took out one simple looking gown and threw it on the bed. And then checked the drawers of the vanity and found some salve, and then she took another gown out and tire it's fabric in two strips. And then she took gown, the bandage, the strips and the salve to the bathroom.
She shrugged out of her torn bloody gown. And then she turned the tap of the bath on, waiting for it to fill up. And in the meanwhile she splashed some water on her face. Bathing while she was bleeding would be dangerous but what could she say. She used the dagger Zane had handed her to cut of the arrow's upper part and then clenched her teeth as she dug the knife around it and pulled out the remaining shards of it. And then blood began oozing out. She had probably stayed out in the forest for a few hours. She then dunked a few strips of her blood gown in the water and cleaned the frozen blood of her body, cleaned her nails and then pressed the rag to the wound and took a deep breath, when she took it off it was fully bloodied. She frowned at it and then put it aside and as the bathtub had filled up she sat down in it, hissing as water made contact with cuts and wound.
She quickly began scrubbing at her hair and poured a little soap on her hand and scrubbed as she saw the water turn red and swore. She then washed her hair and stepped out d the water. The water in just a few minutes had gone bloody.
She dried herself and grabbed the salve and began rubbing it around the wound and then grabbed the moss and placed it and tied the bandages around it quickly, the wound had gotten better as it had healed as all faeries did. But it was still fatal. And then pulled on the other gown and picked up her dirty bloody one. She also picked up her bloody boots and left the chamber.
Entering the bedroom again she saw the Nicholas had fallen asleep on the edge of the bed. The boy must have gotten off the desk.
She was tired but her thoughts weren't leaving her alone.
I don't want her around.
I don't want her around.

What is it that you want wife?
Peace maybe, I want to go back home.

Flirting are we?
Your eyes are beautiful.

No one can rewrite the stars.
Dream Eris.

But now he should die. Or dream of her dying. Trust me.
She had trusted him, with so much. She had trusted him with herself.
And he had betrayed that trust.
It didn't seem like a big thing but it was.
She placed the boots aside and the dirty dress beside it on the ground. And then put the salve on the vanity and grabbed Nicholas and placed him under the duvet, two pillows around him to keep him from falling. The boy snored in peace. She then got under the covers hugging another pillow, and then fell asleep.

Eris had decided his doom the moment he had written that letter. But sitting in front of his father. who held a whip, interrogating him. Beron has always tortured out the answers.
Zane had already gotten his lashes and had spoken a bit just description of the fight he had rigged.
But now, Eris had to speak, or if he didn't than risk the skin of his back, last night, Lilliana had questioned it, he had shrugged it off saying battle scars.
But the truth was quite opposite.
It had been somewhat of a mistake letting her go, he was missing her.
"Eris." Beron snapped
He turned his attention to his father.
"It would be better to speak up boy."
He didn't budge or say anything.
"Fine, you bring it upon yourself son."
At his father's whistle, Felix pulled his jacket and shirt off, and then restrained him.
And then the first whip hit, it was on the same spot where the last had been, a spike of hot pain rushed.
He gulped.
"Eris tell him what he needs." Felix whispered
He shook his head
Then the second one came.
He bit his lip.
A small pause. To give him a chance to speak.
Then the double ones came and skin tore as blood began oozing out.
Felix looked at him his eyes unreadable.
Then another one hit his back and pain exploded in his head.
His father stopped and then came into his sight.
A smirk on the old man's face.
And then another lash came, strong.
"Good job." His father said to Felix.
Felix.
Of course.
"Look, Eris, we both have had centuries to understand each other, the girl I know has gotten out with your help. Better tell me where she is." Beron said
"No." The answer was a firm slap to his father's authority.
"Son, What does she have? Nothing. I can easily rescind my claim of making you the next high lord."
He was here for her.
He was here for her.
The female with pale blue eyes that held so much joy and happiness but pain alike. The woman with pale hair that gleamed like the moon, the woman with skin that glowed. The woman that wasn't perfect in context but perfect for him. The one that had told him to dream. He had dreamt. Just once.
For her.
For Lilliana.
He let himself smile at the image of her in his head. Her hair flying behind her, as they both rode for Amvale. Her eyes shining as she smiled at him.
So he looked at his father and said.
"Do whatever you want to, I won't speak."