Finally, I rose and, with a sigh of exasperation, went to tap on the door. Perhaps I had misunderstood. "Lord Golden. Did you wish me to wait here?"
"Yes. No." Then, in a very uncertain voice, "Would you come in here, please? But first make sure the corridor door is well bolted."
It was. I rattled it to be sure and then opened the door of his room. The room was dim, the windows shuttered. Several candles illuminated Lord Golden standing with his back to me. He wore a sheet from his bed like a cape. He glanced at me over his shoulder and someone I had never met looked out of those golden eyes. When I was three steps into the room, he said quietly, "Stand there, please."
With one hand, he lifted his hair up and out of the way to bare the nape of his neck. The sheet fell away from his naked back, but his free hand continued to clutch it to his chest. I gasped and took an inadvertent step closer. He flinched away but then stood his ground. In a small shaky voice, he asked, "The Narcheska's tattoos. Were they like these?"
"May I come closer?" I managed to say. I didn't really need to. If his tattoos were not identical to hers, then they were at least extremely similar. He nodded jerkily, and I took another step into the room. He did not look at me but stared off into a dim corner. The room was not cold, but he was shivering. The exotic needling began at the nape of his neck and covered every part of his back before vanishing beneath the waistband of his leggings. The twining serpents and wingspread dragons sprawled in exquisite detail over his smooth golden back. The shining colors had a metallic gleam to them, as if gold and silver had been forced under his skin to illuminate them. Every claw and scale, every shining tooth and flashing eye, was perfect. "They are very alike," I managed to say at last. "Save that yours lie flat to your skin. One of hers, the largest serpent, stood swollen from her back as if inflamed. And it seemed to cause her great pain."
He drew in a shuddering breath. His teeth were near to chattering as he observed bitterly, "Well. Just when I thought there was no way she could increase her cruelty, she finds one. That poor, poor child."
"Do yours hurt?" I asked cautiously.
He shook his head, still without looking at me. Some of his hair fell free of his grasp to brush across his shoulders. "No. Not now. But the application of them was extremely painful. And of great duration. They held me very still, for hours at a time. They apologized and tried to comfort me as they did it. That only made it worse, that people who otherwise treated me with such love and regard could do that to me. They were meticulously careful to needle them in just as she instructed them. It is a horrible thing to do to a child. Hold him still and hurt him. Any child." He rocked slightly, his shoulders hunched. His voice was distant.
Golden Fool, by Robin Hobb (Tawny Man Trilogy #2)