A few seconds later, she heard water running.
After a handful of minutes he was back with two warm, damp cloths. He handed one to her to clean herself while he called housekeeping to clean her room next door.
Then he laid back on the bed, and covered his face with the other cloth.
As she leaned against him, she saw a frame on his nightstand. Curious about its contents, she reached over him and pulled it closer, then turned it on.
It was a photo of Darling as a boy, probably around the age of ten. He stood beside his tall, lean father, and behind his mother who sat holding a female toddler with curling red hair. A dark-haired boy a few years younger than Darling stood next to Natale’s knees.
“Is this your family?”
He pulled one corner of the cloth back so that he could see what she was looking at. “Yeah. That’s them.”
They looked so happy together. But that made her wonder something…
“Why isn’t your family here at the palace?”
Shouldn’t they be the ones helping him to heal instead of Maris? Granted Lise was in school, but still…
If Darling was her brother, she wouldn’t have left him alone in the mental condition he was in. He needed people around him who loved him and could reassure and help him while he healed. People who didn’t mind his physical appearance or limitations.
He sighed irritably. “My sister’s at school, mad that I caused her to flunk her classes, and that she’s going to have a permanent limp because of the attack she survived.”
“That wasn’t your fault.”
“Wasn’t it? If I hadn’t pulled her out of school, she would have been fine. Not still going to physical therapy twice a week and living on painkillers that make it hard for her to maintain her course load and grades. But for my interference, she’d have graduated with honors this year. Now, because of me, she’ll be lucky to graduate at all.”
That was twisted logic. “I doubt she thinks that.”
“I don’t. I hear her rant about it every time I call.”
Zarya started to tell him that she’d had an entirely different impression from her earlier conversation with Lise, but she wasn’t sure he wanted her talking to his sister.
“What about your brother?”
“Poor bastard’s taking care of his mother.”
She noted the fact that he didn’t refer to Natale as his mother. “And she is…?”
“At the Summer Palace.”
Zarya frowned at that. It didn’t make sense. His brother and sister… Okay, there were times when she couldn’t be there for Sorche.
But a mother?
“Why isn’t she here? Is she ill?”
When he spoke, the raw anger in his voice chilled her. “No. I don’t want her here.”
“Whyever not?”
“I don’t want to see the way she refuses to look at me, okay?”
“I don’t understand.”
He sighed wearily. “Be glad you don’t. My mother doesn’t mean to be selfish. She just always had a man to protect and care for her, a staff of servants to cater to her every whim, and a nurse or tutor to care for us. She doesn’t know what to do when she’s supposed to be the caregiver—other than delegate it to someone else. It’s hard for her to think about other people.”
“But you’re her son.”
“I know. I love my mother and I hate her guts. I guess that’s my curse. To only want women who put me through hell.”
That stung her like a slap in the face, but she forced her own anger down. “I didn’t hurt you intentionally.”
“My mother doesn’t believe she does either. She thinks she’s a great, loving mother who has done nothing but sacrifice her life for us. One who does her best and only tells us what we need to hear.” Sliding the cloth to his neck, he returned the frame to his nightstand. His eyes were empty as he turned the power off and lay back against the pillows.
Zarya glanced around the elegant room that held no other personal items of his in it. Nothing. No childhood mementos of any kind. No other pictures.
Not even a hairbrush.
She scowled at that realization. Did he not have them or did he not want them?
Her gaze went to the scars that marred him from head to toe. While many were new, a lot of them weren’t. Never in her wildest imaginings would she have thought an aristo would be damaged like this. Her parents had been nothing but kind and protective of them. They’d have killed anyone who dared raise a hand to her or any of her siblings.
Yet Darling’s own uncle had caused many of those scars. Meanwhile, his mother had allowed the abuse to go on for years without stopping it. “Have you ever had anyone protect you?”
His eyes closed, he brushed the cloth against his ravaged cheek. “Nero. Nykyrian. Caillen. Hauk. Maris. Jayne and Syn.”
She paused as she realized that list corresponded to the number of people who’d come into the room after she’d discovered Darling’s presence. “They’re the ones who rescued you?”
He nodded.