the servant who had finished dressing him, but not in the robe and sandals he’d worn during the competition. Someone had apparently retrieved the pants, shirt, and shoes he’d worn getting to the competition, and that was what he now wore. The servant pulled him up to sitting and then hoisted him to his feet, but even with his arm draped around the servant’s neck and the servant’s arm around his middle, Valiant discovered that he could barely stand, let alone walk.
“Give him all the help he needs,” Tamrissa directed the servant, stepping aside to clear the doorway. “If it becomes necessary, carry him.”
The servant nodded with a grunt and began to half drag him toward the door, and Valiant had never been so mortified in his entire life. Tamrissa was as beautiful and vital as ever, and there he was, being hauled along like a useless side of beef. How many times was he supposed to accept being humiliated in front of her without dying from the shame? He didn’t know, but even one more time would have been too much. For that reason he gritted his teeth and forced himself to walk, if that dragging shuffle could be called walking….
“I think it’s best if you stay in this room until someone lets you out, Eltrina,” Tamrissa said as Valiant was hurried toward the door. The last glimpse he’d had of Razas was the way she still stood rooted to the spot, her eyes now open and visibly filled with fear. “Your people will be told that you don’t want to be disturbed, and I suggest that you make no effort to call for help. The longer you stay locked up and out of touch, the better off you’ll be if the guard comes looking for us after all. It won’t save your life, but it will certainly save you a great deal of pain.”
Valiant heard a sobbing moan come from Razas, and then the servant maneuvered him out of the room and began to guide him up the hall. Behind him he heard the sound of the door being closed and locked, and then Tamrissa moved ahead to lead the way. The way she glanced at him said he wasn’t doing well at all with moving on his own—as though he needed to be told. Valiant made sure to avoid her gaze, concentrating instead on trying to keep up with the servant.
By the time they reached the front hall of the house, Valiant was drenched in sweat and gasping. He’d dreaded the thought that there might be stairs to descend, but his prison had been located at the back of the house rather than on an upper floor. Tamrissa moved forward to open the front door, then followed once the servant had him outside.
“Give me a moment and I’ll have the coach door open,” she said, but the expected delay wasn’t necessary. Naran leaned forward to open the coach door from the inside, and the servant grunted as he lifted Valiant bodily and put him inside on the empty bench seat. Rion shared the seat opposite with Naran, and to Valiant the man looked almost as bad off as himself. That thought cheered Valiant not at all, but it was useful to help him ignore the way he’d been treated like an infant.
“Here, take this for your trouble,” Valiant heard Tamrissa say, and he turned his head in time to see her handing something to the servant. “I’ll appreciate your telling the other servants not to disturb Eltrina, and then you’ll be wise to pack your things and leave. Even if you go and release her at once instead, she’ll never keep you around after you witnessed what was done to her.”
The servant’s expression said he knew that Tamrissa was right, and his curt nod was one of full agreement. He headed back to the house with his fist wrapped tight around the coin he’d been given, and Tamrissa climbed into the coach and closed the door behind her before taking the seat beside Valiant.
“The least he could have done was help me into the coach,” she muttered as she fought her skirts straight, her gaze already on his face. “Valiant, are you all right? You haven’t said even a single word
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