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Without taking his eyes off me, he answered without hesitation. “Since I was fifteen years.”
I thought about that for a moment. “Do you like what you do? Um... I mean, do you like serving the people of Titus?”
His lips quirked. “I do. Very much. It is my fate.”
I nodded and looked back to the water before us. Maybe I had read the man wrong earlier. More than fifteen years in the service of The Owl, that holy place, so disciplined and learned, no wonder he seemed so… much.
“I sense that we share that same quality, my lady.”
Confused, I tried to recall what it was he’d said seconds ago. “What quality?”
“A believer in fate and knowing that comfort when it’s accepted.” His gaze dropped to my mouth before he raised it back to my eyes, all in a fraction of a second, so quickly I might have imagined it.
Of course you did, silly twit. He’s a Servant. Why would he be attracted to you?
“That comfort, the rightness of it, if you will,” he continued.
The last bit was whispered, and I felt the echoes of it like tendrils of heat.
I blinked. Why was he acting so different? Was he flirting with me?
Becoming conscious of his nearness, my breathing picked up, making it hard to take full breaths. My heart started beating fast, and there was a loosening in my shoulders as if I’d had too much wine.
Suddenly, I felt like I might get sick. My stomach did a slow tumbling—slushy and nauseating. I had been weary before, when I’d decided to take a break from the festivities, but now I felt perhaps I was coming down with something. My head was swimming, and my heart was pounding now.
I shook my head slowly, closing my eyes against the dizziness, suddenly feeling too hot, too stuffy. Everything seemed too saturated and thick.
“Here. I think you are warm enough now.” He removed the cloak.
He was too close. Demos’ scent filled my nostrils, and I squeezed my legs together, feeling like I needed to use the privy. The thought was embarrassing, but I felt so odd, I didn’t care.
When the fresh night air touched my neck and bare arms, I took a breath, drinking in the coolness in one big gulp. But it didn’t help. I felt a fever coming on, that achy precursor that followed chills.
Something was wrong.
“I think it’s time to bring you back,” Demos said softly. “You look peaked. Can you walk on your own?”
Even his voice sounded odd. It held a raspiness that I could feel licking at my spine.
Confused, I said, “Yes. I think that’s best. Forgive me… it must have been something I ate.” I opened my eyes and saw that he was standing before me now, holding out his hand. I took it, feeling my strength beginning to ebb. His hand was warm, smooth, enveloping. When dark spots hindered my vision, Demos picked me up like I weighed nothing.
His scent was everywhere now, and I had the strangest urge to rub my face against his chest and… I didn’t know what, but I was agitated with the feel of his starched robes against my cheek instead of his…
My thoughts were all over the place. I was too hot, too stretched. Everything felt surreal.
“Sierra!”
“Miss! What has happened?”
Lucinda and Mother. Where had they come from?
“Move aside, ladies. Let us get Lady Sierra in a cool room. She was feeling too hot and had fainted.” Demos’ voice was doing that raspy thing again, and I tried to raise my head to watch his mouth move as he spoke, to see for myself how he was doing that.
“Here, Servant. Place her on the divan. Lucinda!” Mother called nearby, sounding hysterical. “Wet cloths and some vinegar, hurry!”
“Yes, Ma’am. Should I fetch a tincture?”
“No need, Watcher.” Demos’ breath touched the top of my head. “I have a tonic in my room.”
