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Embarrassed, I wanted to say.
I swallowed the words. It was like a spell had been broken, as if the bath water had been a tonic, waking me out of a surreal dream. Memories of kissing him, tasting him, sifted through my mind. My core swirled with buttery heat, and I felt my face flush. I wanted to turn my body away from him, to cover myself. I was embarrassed, yet at the same time, I wanted to spread my legs and take him inside me.
“Strange, weak.” My stomach growled then, loud and long.
His eyes still weren’t on me as he worked. “And finally hungry” He rubbed in more oil, picking up the pace. It wasn’t intimate, more like something that just needed to be done.
I must have looked curious, because he replied, “You’re very dehydrated. Your skin is dry. The oil will help.” His voice was almost a whisper, and something about the tone made me sad.
Before I could look more into it, he pulled me up by the hand. “Can you stand?”
My feet touched the floor, and with his help, I stood. But my legs felt like they were made of jelly. I wobbled until he helped me sit back on the bed. My forehead broke out in a sweat, and my breath came fast.
Gods, what illness was this to make me this weak?
“So not yet, it seems.” He looked around the small open area, which consisted of no rooms but the one we were in.
I noticed a kitchen area in the back. A table and two chairs sat by the only window in the small house. The walls were made up of light-gray logs, each one stacked on top of the other. A cabin. Herbs hung from the rafters near the kitchen, where a fire was burning in the hearth, a steaming pot cooking inside. A few wooden trunks sat on the floor against the wall, near the door. The place was cozy.
“Is this cabin yours?” I asked.
“No, it belongs to a friend.” He stepped away and went to one of the trunks. He came back with some clothes, which he placed beside me before picking out a shift. “Lift your arms.” He put it over my head, dressing me. The material was thin, like his tunic, and it fell around me like a cloud. It smelled of cedar and washing soap.
“Lie down while I fix you something to eat.” He took the remaining clothes and set them aside at the foot of the bed, then made his way over to the kitchen area and began opening cupboards.
I looked at the bed I was on. It was big enough for two and had several fat pillows encased in white linen. Underneath me was a blanket, thick and soft. Taking his advice, I curled myself onto the bed. I had so many questions but couldn’t find the energy to ask them. Instead, I watched him.
My damp hair cooled my skin, and I lifted the mass, twisting it up and out of the way. It was silky and clean. Everything was clean. It felt like I had new skin, that over the past however many days I’d been ill, I’d shed my old skin like a caterpillar. But I certainly didn’t feel like a butterfly. Instead, I was exhausted and as weak as a kitten.
Demos brought over a tray filled with food—bread with butter, a variety of fruit, some broth, and a pitcher of water. Beside the bed was a small table with two cups, some washcloths, and a lantern. He propped me up with the pillows, then sat beside me on the bed. While the broth cooled, he fed me the rest of the offerings. Nothing had tasted so good.
“Easy,” he instructed as I barely chewed the food before swallowing. I moved his hand away and tried to grab for the food myself, but my arms were too weak. Instead, I relented and leaned further back into the pillows, my mouth open for more.
In no time, I had eaten everything except the apple, which was just too tiring to bite into. My belly full, I closed my eyes on a satisfied sigh while Demos took the tray and bowl away.
When he came back, I felt his lips on the crown of my head as I drifted off. The act had me opening my eyes, and I reached out for him, wanting his body beside mine.
“I have things to see to,” he said, his expression closed and distant as he stepped back, ignoring my hand.
“You won’t be gone too long, right?” I frowned, fighting off fatigue and a feeling of dread. Why did he seem so far away? “What’s wrong? Why are you—”
“My lady…” he began, looking away from me. “I think it’s best if we get back to who we were… before. You focus on gaining your strength back. Your body has been through a lot.”
Back to who we were before. He a Servant, me a promised bride.
When I didn’t reply, he met my eyes briefly. “Get some sleep, Lady Sierra.”
Confused and feeling close to tears, I closed my eyes. I couldn’t look at him, wouldn’t allow him to see the pain and rejection I felt.
Blessedly, sleep wasn’t far off, so I let the fatigue sweep me away.
Chapter 19
Sierra
I woke to darkness. My bladder was full to the point of bursting. I remembered I was in the cabin.
“Demos?” I whispered. Gods, I hoped I wasn’t alone in this strange place.
