Luminous

22 - Cleaning Up ❣️

"Coris, c'mon. You need a bath."

Meya shook Coris's bony shoulder for what she felt was the tenth time, but still, he refused to budge. He knelt at the foot of Beau's freshly covered mound, cradling the greyhound's leather collar with the golden medallion. His other hand laid bare on his knee, sprinkled with Hadrian Rose seeds he'd sown onto the turned earth.

According to Hadrian belief, the flesh of the warriors who had fallen in the name of Hadrian would nourish the seeds. Their blood would give color to the petals of the roses, which the Hadrians would use to dye their fabric. Their spirit would enjoy eternal peace in the green meadows on Freda's Caldera, up on the highest peak of Neverend Heights.

Nearby, stablemen dug graves for the other fallen hounds, now sealed in dog-sized, plain wooden coffins, as Sir Jarl paced about monitoring them.

As everybody else seemed to have their job to do, Meya decided her job was to get Coris back to his room in whichever manner possible before the night chills got to his frail lungs. Even if she had to drag him by the collar, sling him over her shoulder or piggyback him.

"Ugh, get...up! You sack of soggy tomatoes! Corien Alexis Hadrian! You get up this instant!"

Growling through clenched teeth, Meya hooked her hands under Coris's sweaty armpits and heaved with all her might. It was like dragging Myron from his charcoal doodles to dinner.

She raised his meatless bum about half a foot above the earth. Still, his boots dragged before him like banners in a feeble breeze, leaving squiggly trails on the soil.

Meya glanced at the Keep, a towering violet shadow against the night sky, lit here and there by candlelight filtered through stained glass. Coris's chambers were on the uppermost third floor. This would never work.

She spotted Beau's collar, and an idea whizzed into her brain. Quick as a snake's lunge, Meya swiped it out of Coris's hand. He started and spun around, but Meya had pranced five feet away.

His cold silvery eyes narrowed in explosive fury, but Meya was unperturbed as she waved the leather strip tantalizingly,

"This ain't catch. If you want it back, then walk."

Coris frowned deeper in annoyance, but he painstakingly picked himself up. His unsteady legs gave way, but Meya was there to catch his arm when he faltered.

Their eyes met. Meya smiled apologetically as she handed him back the collar. Coris took it with trembling fingers and pressed it flush to his chest. He then allowed Meya to lead him back into the Keep.

⏳

Meya heaved Coris up the last step onto the third-floor landing just in time to catch their door swinging open.

Gretella emerged, empty wicker basket propped on her voluminous hip. She turned around at Meya's call and her sprinting, clattering footsteps.

"Nurse! Have you got the antidote?"

Gretella's strict, lined face unfolded into a warm smile for the first time, even as she tutted in annoyed affection.

"Goodly Freda, he's your husband, not your rag doll. Don't drag him around like that!" She scolded as Meya screeched to a halt before her.

Meya eyed the unconscious Coris, then shone Gretella a sheepish grin. Sighing, Gretella motioned towards the door behind.

"I've drawn a warm bath. You know what to do."

Though her face betrayed no emotion whatsoever, Gretella's eyes narrowed with the ghost of a sly grin as she glanced insinuatingly at the asleep Coris and then back to Meya.