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Authors: Kimberly Chapman

Tags: #romance, #love, #adventure, #alcoholism, #addiction, #fantasy, #feminism, #intrigue, #royalty, #romance sex

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BOOK: Sorrows of Adoration
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“This will make you
sleep,” he said, offering me the brew.

I turned my head away,
trying to keep it from touching me. I felt frantic and afraid,
desperate to not be made to lose consciousness. He tried to fight
me with it for a moment and then stood back and said, “The bolt’s
head is barbed. That means I cannot remove it without slowly
cutting it out. It will hurt you a great deal, and when I have to
cauterize it after, you will not be able to bear the pain. Drink
this now, and you will feel nothing.”

I shook my head
defiantly.

He looked at me as
though I were a delinquent child. “Listen to me. I understand that
you’re trying to be very brave, my dear, but this is for the best.
If you flinch as I work you’ll make the injury worse. Furthermore,
I can’t in good conscience allow you to suffer needlessly.”

“Trust him, Aenna,”
Kurit said, leaning forward to brush the hair away from my
forehead. “He’s very skilled and very wise. I’ll be right here when
you wake. Everything will be fine. Just do as Tash says, please,
for your own good.”

My fear of losing
consciousness had become irrational, and I knew it, yet there it
remained. But I knew fighting it would be stupid, so I finally
agreed to drink what Tash had mixed, though my heart raced in
fear.

He put the cup to my
lips and slowly poured as I drank. “It’s bitter,” he said, “but
drink it all down.” As he removed the cup I felt whatever he had
given me take immediate effect. I began to feel as though I was
floating in a warm lake, reminding me of my childhood when I would
sneak away after completing my chores to swim in the springs near
the Academy.

Kurit leaned over me
and kissed my cheek softly. Between the drug, the childhood
nostalgia, and his affection I felt more at ease, but still
something in me fought against sleep. He kissed my cheek over and
over and whispered, “That’s my brave Aenna, rest now.”

As my eyes clouded over
and closed, I heard myself slur a whisper back to him, “I’m not
brave at all. I’m frightened—please don’t leave me alone.” If he
answered, I did not hear it as I drifted off.

 

Chapter
4

 

I AWOKE ALMOST A full
day later, just as the sun was setting. The room in which I found
myself had a window to the south, so the bright light of the sunset
reflected from the uppermost portion of my eastern wall, casting a
warm glow throughout the room. It was that glow that woke me, and I
opened my eyes to see a figure silhouetted at the window, looking
outside.

I tried to look at my
wound, but the act of turning my head in that direction moved a
muscle in the shoulder, and pain flared through it as a result. I
made a soft noise at the discomfort.

The figure turned and
faced the bed, then quickly approached. As he sat in the chair
beside the bed, he moved out of the window’s glare, and I saw that
it was Kurit, there when I awoke, just as he had promised.

He took my hand and
said, “Careful, Aenna, you’re not well just yet.”

I smiled at him
weakly.

“Tash removed the bolt,
and he stopped the bleeding, but you lost a great deal of blood
before that, and you’re very weak. You must rest.”

I tried to talk, to ask
him if my arm would be useable, if there had been any poison, or
even just to tell him that I was quite hungry, but he stopped
me.

“Hush, Aenna, don’t try
to talk. Save your strength. You’re going to be just fine, Tash
said so himself. He said that once the bolt was out, he was able to
stitch you up well without having to cauterize much of the muscle,
which means you should regain full use of your arm. There’s nothing
to worry about. You’re safe here, and I’m going to stay with you,
right here by your side, until you’re well.”

He rose from the chair
and leaned over the bed to kiss my forehead. Gently, he set my hand
down on the bed, went to the door on the other side of the room,
and opened it. He stepped half out, said something I could not
hear, and then re-entered and closed the door.

“I know you’re very
tired, but just try to stay awake for a little while. A servant
will bring some soup in a few minutes. You need to eat something,
even if it’s just a little bit, to keep your strength up.
Especially since we had so little food on the way home.”

I could hear that he
was doing something on the left side of the bed, but it hurt too
much to look that way, so I just closed my eyes and relaxed. Aside
from hunger, thirst, and a great fatigue, I did not feel all that
poorly. My shoulder was a persistent, dull ache, and I was aware of
a pungent and familiar odour from the wound’s dressing. I had
learned to make that numbing salve as a child from a particular
variety of tree root. Unfortunately, it really only worked on the
upper tissue layers, so the deeper part of my injury hurt a great
deal every time I breathed deeply.

Kurit returned to the
side of the bed with a cup in his hands and a damp cloth. “Here,”
he said, putting the cup to my lips. “It’s cold water. You must be
parched.” He tipped the glass so I could drink but poured a little
too fast, and some of the water dribbled down my cheek.

“Ah, I knew I would be
dreadful at this,” he said, removing the cup and patting my cheek
with the cloth. It was warm and felt very soothing. “Sorry,” he
said, smiling at me. “Shall I try again, or do you fear I’ll drown
you?”

I smiled at him in
return and nodded.

He laughed. “I’m a mad
fool. I expect you to nod an answer, yet I ask you a question that
cannot be answered by yes or no. Hopefully you were nodding that
you want more water, and don’t truly think I’d drown you. Do you
want some more?”

I prevented myself from
laughing, lest it cause me further pain, but smiled broadly and
gave another little nod. He put the cup to my lips again and poured
again but more slowly. When I had taken several sips, he put the
cup aside and patted my lips with the cloth again. Then he sat
holding my hand, looking at me with great tenderness.

“I’m sorry you didn’t
have the chance to have a nice hot bath when we returned, but that
will come in a few days. After you fell asleep, Tash shooed me away
while he tended you, and when he was done his nurse cut away your
old clothes and washed you, so you shouldn’t be too uncomfortable.
I hope you don’t mind that we discarded your old clothes, including
those ridiculous boots I made you.” He chuckled, and I smiled at
him.

“She put a simple gown
over you for now, but don’t worry, I promise you’ll have an entire
wardrobe of beautiful dresses when you’re well. And your own room,
upstairs. Much nicer than this small guest room. This was just a
fast place to bring you. I hope you’re not offended. But then if I
let you speak you’d probably tell me it’s beautiful because it’s
not your old cot in the inn’s kitchen, right?”

I nodded.

“I’ve only known you a
few days, and yet I can predict your thoughts, Aenna.” He laughed
again and lifted my hand to his lips, where he kissed it
delicately.

He sat quietly like
that until a servant brought the soup, which he insisted on feeding
me himself. Ridiculous, I thought, that a Prince should be
hand-feeding a peasant. And yet the way he looked at me and touched
me and cared for me with such sweet tenderness made me almost
forget how far apart in station we were.

Kurit wanted to stay in
the room with me all night, but Tash convinced him to get sleep of
his own. As a result, he was not in the room when I awoke the next
morning, but I didn’t mind—it was the first time I had been on my
own since reaching that outpost. How long ago that seemed, and yet
it had only been a few days.

I kept drifting in and
out of sleep, reasonably comfortable despite my injury. I thought
of many things, but my thoughts always returned to my feelings for
Kurit. He was not what I thought a Prince would be. Oh, he was
eloquent, refined, intelligent, and most handsome, but he seemed to
lack a certain seriousness. He had dignity, and even when he winked
and made silly jests he was still articulate and elegant, but there
was a playfulness about him, a need to be joyous that was not what
I would have expected in the nobility. Perhaps that was why I did
not suspect him earlier of being the Prince. Perhaps that was what
allowed me to fall in love with him despite my low station.

I found it increasingly
difficult to doubt his affection for me. Not because of the way he
tended to me, but in fact because of how distressed he became when
he was not allowed to continue it throughout the night. Even then,
I truly believed that his reluctance to leave me was not out of
fear for my health—for I seemed to be recovering well, given the
nature of the injury—but instead of a desire to be with me. In the
last moments that Tash permitted him to stay, he clung to my hand,
as though he were being sent away for much longer than one
night.

So, with this newfound
sense of faith in his fondness for me, I was able to think more
positively about the situation and even allow a glimmer of hope to
creep into my heart.

The nurse brought me
lunch, and still I had not seen Kurit. I wondered if he was all
right and asked the nurse if she had seen him. She said she had
not, but she would inquire on my behalf.

After I finished
eating—which I had discovered was a great joy here, the food being
magnificent!—Tash came to check my wound and informed me that Kurit
had not slept in his own bed since our arrival. Thus, he was
understandably exhausted and had been left to continue sleeping all
morning long. Then Tash
ordered me not to fret about him. Tash seemed to be rather
fond of giving orders.

I was tired,
comfortable, and had a full belly, so I fell asleep easily after
Tash left.

When next I stirred I
did so because I heard the sound of hushed voices in the room. I
opened my eyes to see that in the far corner stood Kurit and
someone who appeared to be Jarik. I first identified him in my mind
as “the Prince” but quickly corrected myself.

“Kasha will not
approve,” Jarik muttered.

“I don’t care,” Kurit
whispered with a hard edge to his voice. “She was always mad to
think I’d consider Sashken.”

“If this is what you
truly want, then you know I shall support you, but—”

“But nothing,” Kurit
whispered. “I’ll handle my mother.”

Jarik looked about to
reply but noticed that I was awake. “I apologize if we disturbed
your slumber, good lady,” he said, nodding to me politely.

Kurit turned to face me
and smiled upon seeing that I was indeed awake. “Good afternoon,
fair Aenna.” He went immediately to the chair by the bed and took
my hand, just as naturally as he had the day before. “I’m sorry I
wasn’t here this morning for you.”

“You needed sleep
yourself I hear,” I said. “Don’t make yourself ill worrying for
me.”

“I seem to recall you
worrying for everyone but yourself in the same fashion when last we
met, Lady Aenna,” Jarik said. His manner was warm and friendly, yet
his face yielded no matching expression.

Kurit laughed. “Give
her a moment, and she’ll tell you she’s not a lady, right
Aenna?”

I smiled. I had not
actually been about to say it, but indeed, I had thought those very
words.

Jarik smiled, but
somehow it seemed pained. I surmised that perhaps he was tired if
he had only just returned to the palace. “From what I have heard
told, you possess the nobility of a lady,” he said.

“Indeed she does,” said
Kurit, a beaming smile on his face. “She is magnificent.”

I felt my face turn so
red it felt hot enough to boil water. I wanted to pull the blankets
over myself and hide!

“Kurit, you’re an
uncouth rogue, making her blush like that. Don’t fret, Aenna—we’ll
teach this scoundrel some manners yet.” Jarik gave Kurit a light
smack to the back of his head, and it so shocked Kurit that I could
not help but laugh. It seemed that these cousins were more like
brothers.

Kurit pretended to
glare at Jarik, who in turn pretended to ignore Kurit and instead
bowed to me deeply. “I’ll take my leave now, Lady Aenna, but should
this rapscallion offend your good nature again, simply summon me,
and I shall take him outside for a sound thrashing.”

I smiled at Kurit, who
was feigning putting a hand to a sword, though there was not even
one there to draw in jest. Jarik continued to pretend to ignore him
and kept bowing to me on his way out of the room.

When he was gone, Kurit
looked back to me, a happy smile on his face. “I’m sorry if I
actually embarrassed you,” he said. “But I meant what I said, and I
would proudly proclaim it to the world.” He reached forward and
gently caressed my cheek. “With all that you’ve done for me, with
all that you’ve demonstrated of yourself in such a short time, how
I could not love you?”

My heart thundered in
my chest. That was the first time he had used that word.

“And I do love you,
Aenna. I wanted to wait to tell you, I wanted to take you out to
the gardens and kneel before you to tell you, but I can’t wait for
that. I cannot wait for you to be strong enough, let alone wait for
spring. My plans and intentions flew away when I held you in that
cart. Do you remember that? I shall never forget, holding you like
that, trying to stop your bleeding, your blood on my hands when it
should have been my blood that was spilled. I was so terrified you
would die in my arms, you can’t know how that shook me to my very
soul.”

He closed his eyes and
bowed his head as if reliving the moment, squeezing my hand between
his, pressing the back of my fingers to his forehead as though in
prayer.

“Did you know that I
wept for you? Thoughts of strength and honour were far from my
mind. I didn’t care who saw me,” he said, lifting his head to look
at me again. “I didn’t care what anyone thought. I cared for
nothing in that moment but you. Nothing else mattered. That changed
me, Aenna. I’ve many times been accused of not taking things
seriously, that I jest too easily. And it’s true. You know
yourself, as we fled—supposedly for our very lives—I could not help
but pretend it was all a game.

BOOK: Sorrows of Adoration
13.62Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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