“That is three questions, but I will let it slide due to mental exhaustion. You are in the hospital of the Royal Pack. It was decided that this would be the

best place for your healing. I turned the sound of the machines off eight days ago, you have been here for 14. Your turn.” He raises an eyebrow at

me.

My eyes go wide, two weeks, my injuries were so bad I was out for two weeks? This is going to be a long ass interview if I have to work this hard to

get basic answers out of him. And I didn’t miss the omission of him guarding me.

“Both sets of scars are from an interaction with her, but I don't think she did the whipping herself. The silver powder on the second set, I believe, she

did herself. I have no proof and was strung up in a way that I could not see anyone behind me. I only knew her from her voice, I could not detect any

scents. Not even hers and my nose wasn't broken that time. Your turn. Who decided this was the best place for me?”

“Several people were involved in that decision. You were going to come to us eventually and given the situation, it was deemed necessary for you to

come sooner than planned. Your turn.”

that isn't a real answer to

does not change from the emotionless mask he’s had the

“You are giving me a headache.” He lets out a huff that might be considered a laugh. “What happens now? I am technically too young

I still have a couple years left of school. What has everyone else decided is best for me?” I let my

is three questions in a row. It is my turn to

eyes. He raises his

of your scars, would you

and then shift uncomfortably in bed, looking down at my hands folded in my lap. I'm sore, but not nearly as much as I should

I've been unconscious for 14 days though.

Proof that the truth doesn't always win out and

multiple attempts at

I've never thought about that. Scars are just something that stay with you forever. I do know that sometimes

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