12 - The Axel

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Meya woke to the twitter of morning birds, the warmth of sunshine filtering through the gap in the curtains, and the softness of the duck feather-stuffed four-poster bed. The air smelled fresh and clean. She drew in a deep breath, savoring its scent.

This is heaven. Pure heaven. After sixteen years sleeping on moldy hay sheets in a one-room cottage crammed with nine, echoing with Dad's snores. Still, Meya preferred the snores to the alternative, which involved her mother and one of the things children weren't allowed to do.

Speaking of which...

Meya giggled as she buried her burning cheeks into the bouncy pillow. Still, it wasn't long before her senses sharpened enough to register the lack of human presence by her side and the hair-raising, violent coughs disturbing the morning peace.

"Coris!"

Meya bolted up with a cry. Coris was bent double on the bed edge, spewing his throat down a chamber pot. After a moment of useless fretting, Meya scampered to his side, one arm holding the pot, the other running down his bony back.

After an excruciating minute, Coris calmed. When he surfaced, Meya noticed with horror the red speck in the fluid flowing from his lips.

Swallowing her panic, Meya handed Coris a goblet of water. Once he'd rinsed, she gave him a towel to wipe his face, then eased him to bed and pulled up the blanket.

Coris opened his eyes blearily. Seeing her shock, he gave her a consoling smile.

"Sorry. It happens all the time after I overexerted." His benign grin turned sly as his gaze swept over her, "Must've had too much fun with your body last night."

Meya felt like all the blood in her system had pooled on her face. She covered her chest with one hand and socked him hard on his arm with the other.

"Ow!" Surely it wasn't that painful, but from how Coris was moaning, the servants would think she'd butchered his manhood or something.

"Good grief, lady! Do you not see how sick I was?" Coris lovingly cradled the sore spot on his arm. Meya shrugged at the sight of those reproachful silvery eyes,

"I did, but I needed proof."

Pouting, Coris slithered under his blanket as he griped for her to hear,

"Isn't Lady Arinel supposed to be calm, obedient and gentle?"

"And isn't Lord Coris supposed to be fat, spoiled and obnoxious?" Meya retorted, eyebrows raised, as her heart skipped a beat. Coris froze, then nodded, 

"Yes. I was fat and spoiled." His face fell as he mumbled in shame, "And obnoxious. Horridly obnoxious."

So Arinel was telling the truth? Meya laid down and snuggled close to Coris' cold chest. As his faint heartbeats drummed against her cheek, she could no longer suppress her curiosity.

"Isn't there a way to make you healthy again?" 

Coris met her pleading eyes, then sighed and wrapped her in his arms.

"I'm afraid there isn't. My bowels are scarred beyond repair."

His brusque explanation conjured gruesome images in Meya's head. She shuddered, 

"What in the three lands happened to you?"  

Coris shifted back so they lay face-to-face. He held her gaze for a long, silent moment, his expression one of careful calculation rather than hesitance, then his eyes traveled to the Lattis coin on her necklace.  

"Have you ever heard of The Axel?" He fingered it pensively. Meya shook her head, eyes glued and unblinking. Even though he had asked, Coris frowned at her as if he'd expected a yes.

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