The Unwilling Queen

Scars

"I want you to take this every morning. First thing. Don't miss a dose," Petra ordered.

"What is it?"

"A contraceptive."

"A contra - but, what if -- I'm not sure -- what if my body starts ageing and this is the only chance I have?"

Petra pursed her lips. "It's too dangerous."

"What?"

"A human body can't carry a faunid fetus. It might kill you."

"But you're a powerful surgeon. You could save it!"

"But could I save you? Human bodies were not designed to carry a faunid to term."

The image of the winged baby in her arms faded. But so did the sound of crying. She had heard a baby in her vision quest. This news was more evidence that the human-princess-future was just a hallucination.

"I understand," Avery was torn between crushing disappointment and relief. "Does Roedin know?"

"I doubt a freshly mated male has anything but you on his mind."

Avery nodded. "I'll take the tonic."

"Thank you. It's just safer this way."

Petra returned to her desk, tidying up jars and instruments.

"I actually wanted to see you for a different reason," Avery said.

"Oh?"

"I know you're busy, and this would take a lot of your power, but I want my scars removed."

Petra stopped tidying and approached the exam table again. "It's extremely painful, Avery."

"As painful as what they remind me of?" she asked in a small voice.

Petra examined her wrist, running her fingers over the marks left by the shackles. "They might make you angry, but they also make you who you are."

"I'm not a slave."

"No. But you survived slavery. And abuse. And torture. And you are an amazing person for it. You should never be ashamed of what these scars tell you. For they say that you have seen the worst in this world, and you remain determined to look for the best."

Avery gulped. "Roedin gets so angry when he sees the brand. He blames himself. I don't want that haunt him every time he looks at me."

"So are you doing this for you or for Roedin?"

"For us. We're bonded mates now. I can feel how upset it makes him. That makes me upset."

"Then why isn't he here with you?"

Avery opened her mouth then closed it without a sound. Finally she composed an answer. "It's my body. These scars are constant reminders of what was taken from me. I want them gone."

Petra didn't reply immediately. "I'll do one treatment. But it hurts. I have to rip open the skin and reseal to remove the marks. And I can't guarantee I'll get it all. Old scars might never be removed but fresh ones are easier."

Avery nodded. "The brand. I was branded last summer."

"The shackles came off a couple of weeks ago."

"I don't care about those. They carry...other memories. Of my time at the preserve. But everyone can see the brand. And they judge me for it."

With a sigh Petra leaned over and arranged the pillow on the exam table. "Remove your shirt and pull down the strap of your undershirt. Lie back."

Avery immediately followed the instructions and swung her legs up on the table so she was lying down. Still unhappy about performing this task Petra ran her fingers over the brand and rallied her power. Heat began to tingle in her shoulder and Avery forced herself to lie still.

"Breath, Avery."

She was holding her breath. She forcibly exhaled and willed the cool air to travel through her veins to the fire burning in her shoulder. Then Petra took a knife -- no sword, or maybe it was an axe -- and rammed it through her chest. Avery gasped and looked over to see Petra's eyes trained on the scar, no axe or sword or scalpel to be seen. But it felt like she was being gutted. Her hands clutched the edges of the exam table but she refused to make a sound. She could endure this. She endured having them put the brand on, she could endure having it removed.

She pictured Krastic's smug face and imagined beating him with the iron brand. It was the last thought she had before passing out.

A cool cloth wiped down her face as her lead was lifted and sweet water brought to her lips. The liquid drizzled down her chin.

"Drink, Avery. Come on now. Drink or I'm sending for Roedin."

Avery parted her lips and gulped at the water. It was refreshing and laced with something, an odd flavour. It brought her back to consciousness.

"Did it work?"

Petra gave her a disapproving glare. "I stopped when I lost you. I said you needed support."

"But if I was unconscious then you should have finished."

"Not without someone here for you! And here for me. It takes a lot of power."

Avery forced herself into a seated position, the room spinning around her. Petra held her shoulders for a moment before handing her another glass of tainted water. The brand had been reduced to a smeared mark, Culden's letters no longer distinguishable. It could have been a messy arrow wound. Avery sighed in relief.

"My back next. Do you think it could be done in time for the fundraiser next month? I saw this dress I'd love to wear but it has an open back. I don't want everyone staring."

"Avery -- "

"I can come back tomorrow. And the next day."

"No."

"But I --"

"Not until you talk about it with Roedin -- with anyone. Niamh, your friend Rena, Sari, a therapist, I don't care who. But removing scars is about more than physical damage. It won't heal you."

"I don't need their permission. It's my body," Avery growled.

"It's not about permission. It's --" She cut off with a knock at the door. Frowning, Petra opened it to a messenger outside.

"Prime Petra," he acknowledged. "They're asking for you to slip to the Terraly border camp. Casualties are pouring in with magical wounds. There's a prime waiting for you by the gate."

Avery slipped off the exam table. "Casualties?"

The messenger seemed to notice Avery for the first time. His eyes darted between the surgeon and the mortal. Avery cringed. The Whisper would reach Ember Place before she did. So much for discretion.

Petra quickly collected her travel bag. "Avery, finish that glass of water and drink three more when you get home. Your skin needs to stay hydrated for the magic to hold it long enough to heal."

Avery nodded and followed Petra out of the clinic and into the dark street.