58. The Prince

58

THE PRINCE

E ll-rom blinked, confusion clouding his features as he stared at Bridget. "What do you usually eat?" she repeated, her voice gentle but insistent.

He frowned, searching his fractured memory for some clues, some hint of what his body required for sustenance. But there was only blankness, a void where that knowledge should have been.

After having such a remarkable breakthrough and remembering his and his sister's names, he had hoped more memories would come rushing in, but he had no such luck.

After they had rolled his bed back to his room, he'd fallen asleep again, and when he'd woken up, it was with the same confusion as before.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I can't remember."

Bridget nodded as if she had expected as much. "That's all right," she reassured him, laying a comforting hand on his arm. "We'll figure it out together. I don't think your body can process blood, but that's what the Kra-ell live on, so let's start with that. Does drinking blood appeal to you?"

He felt bile rise in his throat, and his stomach convulsed as if preparing to purge what was inside of it.

"Not at all. I find even the thought of it disgusting."

"How about animal or fowl flesh? Raw or cooked?"

Ell-rom's stomach lurched violently again, a wave of nausea crashing over him. He swallowed hard, fighting the urge to hurl, his face twisting with disgust.

"No," he managed, shaking his head vigorously. "No meat, either."

"That's odd." Bridget frowned. "The gods eat everything." She glanced at Jasmine. "Am I right?"

Jasmine nodded. "We all ate the same things, and there were all kinds of you-know-what in the dishes. I don't want to mention it because Ell-rom looks green."

"I do?" He lifted his hand and looked at it. "I still look slightly gray."

"It was a tease." She patted his knee through the blanket covering him.

The friendly touch shouldn't have aroused him, but he couldn't help it. He didn't know how old he was, but he knew he hadn't been touched much, and definitely not by females other than his sister. He couldn't remember their mother touching him either, but she must have, at least when they were little.

"It makes sense," the senior medic said. "It's not like they could get the you-know-what or cook it in the temple." She looked at him. "How about baked food, fruits, or vegetables?"

Tearing himself away from sinful thoughts, Ell-rom tried to catch a flicker of memory that danced at the edges of his consciousness.

The scent of ripe fruit, sweet and fragrant, the taste of it bursting on his tongue like a small sun. His mouth watered at the thought, a sudden, visceral longing filling him.

"Fruit," he said. "I remember the taste of fruit."

Bridget smiled. "Good. That's a start. I'll bring you some vegetable broth to start, and we'll take it from there."

"Yay!" Jasmine clapped her hands. "You are about to eat real food."

Ell-rom glanced at the clear line that extended from a bag full of liquids to the back of his hand. "What about this? Do we still need it?"

Bridget hesitated. "You are holding down water just fine, so we can take it out, but if we encounter problems feeding you, we might need to put it back in."

He lifted his hand. "I am willing to take the risk."

"Excellent." Bridget looked at him with assessing eyes. "Since you seem eager to get out of bed, I'm inclined to assist you in that. But first, we need to remove everything else, including the other end." She winked. "I'm sure there is no Kra-ell translation for that word."

He knew what she meant, and having such an exchange in front of Jasmine was embarrassing.

"Yes, I am willing to risk that as well."

"Excellent. That means that you will have to use the restroom on your own. The first couple of times, Julian will help you, and I will get you a walker for later."

It was a terrifying prospect, and he didn't know if he was ready, but he was so tired of the bed and the white wall in front of it. He needed to see the sky and breathe fresh air, but until he became mobile and stable, he could not do any of those things.

"I'll help," Jasmine offered. "You can lean on me on the way to the bathroom." He would rather die, but he did not say that.

"Also," Bridget said. "It's time you got a proper shower. After Julian removes all the wires and tubes, he will help wash you."

Ell-rom knew what a shower was because Jasmine used it to clean herself every night. She did not wash her hair every time she used the shower, but she always smelled good when she came out.

He did not want to think about how he smelled. Julian, the male medic, had been wiping him clean with some special kind of towel with cleansing agents, but it wasn't the same as standing under a spray of water and using cleansing products directly on his skin.

Had he had showers where he came from?

He couldn't even remember what kind of bed he slept on, let alone any other comforts.

"Julian will come over to help you," Bridget repeated. "Is that okay?"

"Yes, of course. I'm looking forward to it."

Bridget turned to Jasmine. "I think Ell-rom would like privacy for his first shower."

Jasmine jumped up from her chair as if something had bit her lush bottom. "Yes. I'm leaving right now."

No, he wasn't going to think about her bottom, or her bosom, or her lips… Oh, dear Mother above. He would need some time to calm down before the male medic arrived, or he would die from embarrassment.

Jasmine turned to him and smiled. "I'll come back when Julian tells me it's okay. I'm going to take a walk and stretch my legs."

Still dying on the inside, he nodded.

When Bridget and Jasmine left, Ell-rom released a long breath and turned his thoughts toward all those poor souls who hadn't made it. Perhaps using them to douse the fire coursing through his veins was disrespectful to their memory, but he had nothing else.

He would pray for their forgiveness later.