Chapter 13: A Hot Mess, Literally
~Flerbery’s P.O.V.~
“Woande, I think I might be in love with Stellan. Like…for real.” I think to her. After a day of traveling in the carriage with only each other to talk to, it was easy to fall for him. I’ve always been a girl who goes after intelligence, and intelligence is in ample supply for Stellan. Besides, shouldn’t I love the man I am supposed to marry?
“What?!” cries Woande. “How in the name of Flabnorius did you fall in love with someone so cruel? And you’ve only known him a few days!”
“Excuse me? If I am not mistaken, you and Cadarum are getting along exceedingly nicely. If ya know what I mean…” I think back.
“Umm, if you mean what I think you mean then I don’t know what you mean.” She thinks defensively.
“Right… Well we are more than halfway to Goronglia now just thought I’d tell you. We’re stopping at an inn for the night.” I tell her.
“Don’t get too busy.” She says meaningfully.
“In separate rooms. Without leaving them. At all. Whatsoever.” I think forcefully.
“If you say so…” She thinks tauntingly. Ugh, I give up.
I say goodbye to Woande just as we pull up to the inn. Stellan gets out and helps me hop from the carriage. Byronn wipes sweat from his brow. He looks exhausted, but he hops down from the driver’s seat and starts to unbuckle the horses. He strokes the painted mare and pinto gelding gently, coaxing them toward the stables. I had truly not thought of him until now.
“Where will Byronn sleep?” I ask Stellan. He looks confused.
“Who?”
“Byronn.” I say. “The stable boy. He will need a room.”
“Nonsense. He can sleep in the stable,” says Stellan, turning his nose up at Byronn. “We he reserved rooms previously, and I doubt any more rooms will be open.”
“Sir.” I protest. “I insist that he have a place to sleep tonight. If you won’t provide him with a room I will let him have mine and I will sleep in the stables.”
Byronn stands near holding the horses reigns, looking as if he feels guilty for being a burden. “Really,” he says humbly, “I’ll be comfortable in the stables. I like the hay better than any feather bed.”
“Of course not! You’ll catch a cold!” I say.
“Really, I’m---”
“No protest, Byronn. You will sleep in my room and that’s final. I’ll stay in the carriage.” I decide.
Stellan shakes his head. “That is simply improper and I won’t allow it. I’ll go ask if they have any rooms open.”
Stellan walks of toward the inn door. “Are you alright? You look terrible.” I say, concerned, to Byronn.
“I’m okay. I’ll be much more comfortable in the stables.” He says humbly. “I don’t wish to be a bother.”
“You’re not any bother. Besides, I don’t trust Stellan. We will both be much safer the closer we are to one another. And I need your help keeping Stellan from finding out about mine and my sister’s powers.”
“Well, if it will keep you safer then I’ll do it.” He agrees.
“Good. Let’s go get Frederick and Nelly put away.” I say, taking the paint mare, Nelly, by the reigns and leading her toward the stables.
Stellan returns to tell us that there are no more rooms, but the the woman at the desk says there is a changing room and servant’s cot in every room.
“She said it’s perfectly normal for a guest to have their servant in their room and that no one would think it improper.”
We grab our luggage and head into the inn. Our room is small, but it is nicely furnished and clean. I set my suitcase down on the cot and Byronn looks at me confused, his small leather knapsack hanging unsurely from his wrist. I point at the bed, which is way too soft and fancy looking for my taste.
“Uh… I don’t think I---”
I point at the bed again, this time with more force, and say. “Sleep. Bed. Now.”
“I should probably bathe before I touch anything.” He says.
“True. That’s the changing room.” I say pointing to a room with walls of curtains. He slips into the curtains and soon I hear water rushing from flabnoria’s underground hot springs and into a wash basin. As he washes, I open my suitcase and get out a nightgown, a hairbrush, a large ribbon, and a couple books. Then I sit and wait patiently for him to be done. He doesn’t keep me waiting long, soon he comes out in thin cotton pants and a tunic. His ginger hair is dripping wet, clinging to his forehead, and water drips into his blue-green eyes.
At this point I realize that even though Woande is probably asleep, I don’t want her hearing my thoughts and getting the wrong idea, so I hide my thoughts from her. Then I get my clothes and brush and such and head into the bath. Byronn left me clean hot water and a towel hanging up. I slip into the hot water and stick my face underneath the surface, opening my eyes to look up at the blurry surface like a window. The demented part of my brain imagines what it would be like to bathe in hot acid and just let it burn away at my skin and take all my worries away with it.
Suddenly I feel the burn of acid stronger than my own imagination. I let my imagination get out of hand again! This can’t be good… It gets hotter until it’s an intense pain and I gasp, only to realize that I’m under water. I stand up fast out of the water gasping for air and I cry out in pain. as soon as I blink the water out of my eyes I look at my arms to see where the pain’s coming from and don’t believe what my eyes show me. My skin is literally on FIRE. My skin is on fire!
I scream again and this cause The curtains to shake and Byron to call, “Are you okay?! What’s going on in there?!”
“Ummm, I’m fine!” I call back, wanting to grab a towel and cover up, but not wanting to catch it on fire. My skin doesn’t seem to be getting harmed…and I’m still dripping water…
Byronn calls worriedly, “Well why are you screaming then?!”
“I’m… uh… on fire. But don’t worry I’m fine. I’m not burning. How do you get fire to stop?!” I call.
“What?!” He cries. “Should I come help you? Are you naked?”
“Umm… yeah.”
“Well can you… you know… cover up?” He asks.
I call impatiently. “I’m on FIRE! You can’t just ‘cover up’ fire!”
“I don’t know how to help you in this situation… what do you want me to do? Should I get Stellan?” He asks.
“NO!” I yell, waving my arms in exasperation. The tip of my hand brushes the hanging towel and it bursts into flame. Oh shilnip…
He cries,“Don’t do that! Just stand still!”
“I have to put the fire out!” I realize that the heat is intensifying again and I can’t help but burst into tears of desperation. I can’t think of a way out of this. I sob. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Just calm down, don’t panic.” His words comfort me, but also bring on a wave of hysteria. I start hyperventilating and sobbing even more. The flames get bigger and wilder and I can hear the roar of the fire.
“Flerbery!” He calls, his voice slightly desperate now, too. “The towel is spreading the fire! I have to come in and put it out! I’ll close my eyes and you hide behind the tub I won’t look I promise!”
“Okay.” I whimper weakly.
I crawl behind the tub and hear the curtain being drawn open. Byronn runs to the towel and I hear it slide from where it’s hanging. Then he stomps the fire out and sighs with relief. Then, with his eyes still covered, he turns around to go, but slips in the water from me jumping out of the bath. He falls forward and his hands come down to catch him, leaving his eyes uncovered. He falls into the full bath tub, trying to catch himself palms-down on the bottom of the tub, but his hands slip and his head hits the hard metal edge of the tub, knocking him unconscious. His head falls into the water.
“Byronn! Are you all right?” Oh crelp, he’s unconscious. I stand up to get a towel and cover myself, but then I remember that it was burnt to ashes. Great.
Flerbery! I think to myself. That’s not important right now! He’s drowning, save him!
I wrap my arms under his shoulders and pull him out of the tub, my bare chest pressing against his tunic back. I hope in the name of the Tilly Angel that he doesn’t wake up. I drag him, trying to be gentle, to the side of the tub and lay him on the floor. His breathing is shallow and his head is bleeding. Why the hunba is he so clumsy? Ugh.
I push on his chest over his lungs to push the water out, just like Woande and I learned in royal medical school. (Though she paid less attention to the lessons and more to the young male instructor) Then I turn him over and he spits up water. I turn him back on his back and give him more chest compressions. After all the water is out of his system I run over to the burnt towel, grab a knife from my bag, cut off a strip of towel to use as a bandage, and run back to Byronn. I get down on my knees and lean over to put the makeshift towel-bandage on his head, only to realize… his eyes are open. Wide open.
“Woande, I think I might be in love with Stellan. Like…for real.” I think to her. After a day of traveling in the carriage with only each other to talk to, it was easy to fall for him. I’ve always been a girl who goes after intelligence, and intelligence is in ample supply for Stellan. Besides, shouldn’t I love the man I am supposed to marry?
“What?!” cries Woande. “How in the name of Flabnorius did you fall in love with someone so cruel? And you’ve only known him a few days!”
“Excuse me? If I am not mistaken, you and Cadarum are getting along exceedingly nicely. If ya know what I mean…” I think back.
“Umm, if you mean what I think you mean then I don’t know what you mean.” She thinks defensively.
“Right… Well we are more than halfway to Goronglia now just thought I’d tell you. We’re stopping at an inn for the night.” I tell her.
“Don’t get too busy.” She says meaningfully.
“In separate rooms. Without leaving them. At all. Whatsoever.” I think forcefully.
“If you say so…” She thinks tauntingly. Ugh, I give up.
I say goodbye to Woande just as we pull up to the inn. Stellan gets out and helps me hop from the carriage. Byronn wipes sweat from his brow. He looks exhausted, but he hops down from the driver’s seat and starts to unbuckle the horses. He strokes the painted mare and pinto gelding gently, coaxing them toward the stables. I had truly not thought of him until now.
“Where will Byronn sleep?” I ask Stellan. He looks confused.
“Who?”
“Byronn.” I say. “The stable boy. He will need a room.”
“Nonsense. He can sleep in the stable,” says Stellan, turning his nose up at Byronn. “We he reserved rooms previously, and I doubt any more rooms will be open.”
“Sir.” I protest. “I insist that he have a place to sleep tonight. If you won’t provide him with a room I will let him have mine and I will sleep in the stables.”
Byronn stands near holding the horses reigns, looking as if he feels guilty for being a burden. “Really,” he says humbly, “I’ll be comfortable in the stables. I like the hay better than any feather bed.”
“Of course not! You’ll catch a cold!” I say.
“Really, I’m---”
“No protest, Byronn. You will sleep in my room and that’s final. I’ll stay in the carriage.” I decide.
Stellan shakes his head. “That is simply improper and I won’t allow it. I’ll go ask if they have any rooms open.”
Stellan walks of toward the inn door. “Are you alright? You look terrible.” I say, concerned, to Byronn.
“I’m okay. I’ll be much more comfortable in the stables.” He says humbly. “I don’t wish to be a bother.”
“You’re not any bother. Besides, I don’t trust Stellan. We will both be much safer the closer we are to one another. And I need your help keeping Stellan from finding out about mine and my sister’s powers.”
“Well, if it will keep you safer then I’ll do it.” He agrees.
“Good. Let’s go get Frederick and Nelly put away.” I say, taking the paint mare, Nelly, by the reigns and leading her toward the stables.
Stellan returns to tell us that there are no more rooms, but the the woman at the desk says there is a changing room and servant’s cot in every room.
“She said it’s perfectly normal for a guest to have their servant in their room and that no one would think it improper.”
We grab our luggage and head into the inn. Our room is small, but it is nicely furnished and clean. I set my suitcase down on the cot and Byronn looks at me confused, his small leather knapsack hanging unsurely from his wrist. I point at the bed, which is way too soft and fancy looking for my taste.
“Uh… I don’t think I---”
I point at the bed again, this time with more force, and say. “Sleep. Bed. Now.”
“I should probably bathe before I touch anything.” He says.
“True. That’s the changing room.” I say pointing to a room with walls of curtains. He slips into the curtains and soon I hear water rushing from flabnoria’s underground hot springs and into a wash basin. As he washes, I open my suitcase and get out a nightgown, a hairbrush, a large ribbon, and a couple books. Then I sit and wait patiently for him to be done. He doesn’t keep me waiting long, soon he comes out in thin cotton pants and a tunic. His ginger hair is dripping wet, clinging to his forehead, and water drips into his blue-green eyes.
At this point I realize that even though Woande is probably asleep, I don’t want her hearing my thoughts and getting the wrong idea, so I hide my thoughts from her. Then I get my clothes and brush and such and head into the bath. Byronn left me clean hot water and a towel hanging up. I slip into the hot water and stick my face underneath the surface, opening my eyes to look up at the blurry surface like a window. The demented part of my brain imagines what it would be like to bathe in hot acid and just let it burn away at my skin and take all my worries away with it.
Suddenly I feel the burn of acid stronger than my own imagination. I let my imagination get out of hand again! This can’t be good… It gets hotter until it’s an intense pain and I gasp, only to realize that I’m under water. I stand up fast out of the water gasping for air and I cry out in pain. as soon as I blink the water out of my eyes I look at my arms to see where the pain’s coming from and don’t believe what my eyes show me. My skin is literally on FIRE. My skin is on fire!
I scream again and this cause The curtains to shake and Byron to call, “Are you okay?! What’s going on in there?!”
“Ummm, I’m fine!” I call back, wanting to grab a towel and cover up, but not wanting to catch it on fire. My skin doesn’t seem to be getting harmed…and I’m still dripping water…
Byronn calls worriedly, “Well why are you screaming then?!”
“I’m… uh… on fire. But don’t worry I’m fine. I’m not burning. How do you get fire to stop?!” I call.
“What?!” He cries. “Should I come help you? Are you naked?”
“Umm… yeah.”
“Well can you… you know… cover up?” He asks.
I call impatiently. “I’m on FIRE! You can’t just ‘cover up’ fire!”
“I don’t know how to help you in this situation… what do you want me to do? Should I get Stellan?” He asks.
“NO!” I yell, waving my arms in exasperation. The tip of my hand brushes the hanging towel and it bursts into flame. Oh shilnip…
He cries,“Don’t do that! Just stand still!”
“I have to put the fire out!” I realize that the heat is intensifying again and I can’t help but burst into tears of desperation. I can’t think of a way out of this. I sob. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Just calm down, don’t panic.” His words comfort me, but also bring on a wave of hysteria. I start hyperventilating and sobbing even more. The flames get bigger and wilder and I can hear the roar of the fire.
“Flerbery!” He calls, his voice slightly desperate now, too. “The towel is spreading the fire! I have to come in and put it out! I’ll close my eyes and you hide behind the tub I won’t look I promise!”
“Okay.” I whimper weakly.
I crawl behind the tub and hear the curtain being drawn open. Byronn runs to the towel and I hear it slide from where it’s hanging. Then he stomps the fire out and sighs with relief. Then, with his eyes still covered, he turns around to go, but slips in the water from me jumping out of the bath. He falls forward and his hands come down to catch him, leaving his eyes uncovered. He falls into the full bath tub, trying to catch himself palms-down on the bottom of the tub, but his hands slip and his head hits the hard metal edge of the tub, knocking him unconscious. His head falls into the water.
“Byronn! Are you all right?” Oh crelp, he’s unconscious. I stand up to get a towel and cover myself, but then I remember that it was burnt to ashes. Great.
Flerbery! I think to myself. That’s not important right now! He’s drowning, save him!
I wrap my arms under his shoulders and pull him out of the tub, my bare chest pressing against his tunic back. I hope in the name of the Tilly Angel that he doesn’t wake up. I drag him, trying to be gentle, to the side of the tub and lay him on the floor. His breathing is shallow and his head is bleeding. Why the hunba is he so clumsy? Ugh.
I push on his chest over his lungs to push the water out, just like Woande and I learned in royal medical school. (Though she paid less attention to the lessons and more to the young male instructor) Then I turn him over and he spits up water. I turn him back on his back and give him more chest compressions. After all the water is out of his system I run over to the burnt towel, grab a knife from my bag, cut off a strip of towel to use as a bandage, and run back to Byronn. I get down on my knees and lean over to put the makeshift towel-bandage on his head, only to realize… his eyes are open. Wide open.