CRIMSON DEBTS Chapter 41
Chapter 41: The Price of the Fire
The morning sun was unforgiving. It cut through the gaps in the cottage curtains like a blade, hitting Kaelen's eyes with a rhythmic throb that matched the pounding in his skull.
Kaelen groaned, pushing himself up. His memory of the late hours was a blurred montage of red mist, the "Old Man's Fire" cider, and a desperate, clawing need to anchor himself to Julian. He felt heavy, his muscles aching as if he'd been in a street brawl.
He looked down. The bed was a disaster of tangled sheets. Julian was curled away from him, buried deep under the quilt, only the top of his messy blonde hair visible.
I need to clear my head, Kaelen thought. He showered quickly, the cold water shocking his system back to reality. He dressed in simple linen trousers, his mind already pivoting to "Enforcer mode"-make breakfast, apologize for the roughness, and spend the day making it up to his husband.
He fried some eggs and toasted thick slices of bread, the scent filling the small cottage. When he returned to the bedroom to wake Julian, he softened his expression.
"Jules? Wake up, sweetheart. I made breakfast."
He reached out to brush a stray hair from Julian's forehead, but the moment his skin touched Julian's, he recoiled.
"Julian?"
He pressed the back of his hand to Julian's cheek. It wasn't just warm-it was radiating a terrifying, dry heat. Julian let out a weak, broken whimper, his eyelids fluttering.
"Kae..." Julian's voice was a sandpaper scratch.
"I'm here. God, Julian, you're burning up.
" Panic, sharp and cold, sliced through Kaelen's chest. He pulled the quilt back to check on him, and his heart sank.
The marks were everywhere-bruises from his fingers and bite marks that looked far too angry in the daylight.
"I'm taking you to the hospital. Right now. "
"No!" Julian gasped, clutching the sheets. He tried to push himself up to a sitting position, but as soon as his weight shifted, he let out a sharp cry of agony. He collapsed back into the pillows, his face turning ghostly pale. "No hospital... I'm not going."
"Julian, you have a fever and you can't even move! You're in pain!"
"Of course I'm in pain!" Julian snapped, his voice a frustrated whine, tears of hurt and exhaustion pricking his eyes. "Do you even remember what you did last night? Do you have any idea how you treated me?"
Kaelen flinched, his throat tightening with guilt. "I... I was drunk, Julian. The cider... I know I was rough, but..." He paused, looking confused. "This isn't the first time we've done it, Julian. We've been together a year. You've never been in this kind of pain before."
Julian glared at him, his lip trembling. "Do we ever do it the way you did last night? You weren't yourself, Kaelen! And I'm not going to a doctor so they can look at these marks and know exactly what happened in this bed. I'd die of embarrassment."
"We are a married couple, Julian!" Kaelen argued, his hands hovering over him, desperate to help. "Everyone in this village knows what married couples do on their wedding night!"
"Not like this!" Julian whispered, turning his face away.
Before the argument could escalate, a heavy, rhythmic thudding echoed from the front door. Knock. Knock. Knock.
Kaelen went to the door in a daze. Mary stood there, holding a tray covered with a cloth. The scent of savory fish soup and ginger porridge wafted up.
"I brought-" She stopped, her eyes narrowing as she saw the sheer panic and guilt written all over Kaelen's face. "Where is he?"
Kaelen rubbed his head in a shy, shamed gesture. "He... he just woke up. Mary, he's got a fever. He's hurting."
Mary didn't say another word. She pushed past him, her boots clicking loudly on the floor. She marched straight into the bedroom. Julian was still lying down, the quilt slipping just enough to reveal the wreckage of the night before.
Mary stopped. She looked at the marks, then turned her head away for a second before fixing Kaelen with a look that could have withered a stone. She looked back at Julian, who nudged his head into the pillow, hiding his face in shame.
"When we warned you yesterday," Mary said, her voice stern and booming, "do you think we wanted to forbid you from sleeping with your husband? No, boy. We were trying to save you from him. We know exactly what happens when our men give the groom that 'Fire' to drink on their wedding night."
Julian felt a wave of absolute shamelessness wash over him, his face burning hotter than his fever. To have Mary speak so plainly about their intimate night, knowing the exact cause of his state, made him want to vanish into the mattress.
"Now, listen to me," Mary commanded. "Kaelen, you go to the kitchen.
Get a basin of warm water. He needs to sit in it to bring the swelling down.
Then you go to the apothecary-get the strongest painkillers they have and a tub of Rose Salve to rub on those marks.
Then you'll feed him every drop of this porridge and fish soup. "
She walked toward the door, stopping next to Kaelen. She looked at the two of them-one broken and feverish, the other looking like a kicked dog-and sighed.
"Children of today," she muttered, shaking her head. "No self-control. Fix him, Kaelen. Or don't bother coming out of this cottage today."
As soon as the door clicked shut, Kaelen moved with frantic purpose.
He prepared the basin with warm water, testing the temperature a dozen times to ensure it was perfect.
He returned to the bed and, with a tenderness that brought fresh tears to Julian's eyes, he lifted him.
Julian hissed and whimpered as Kaelen lowered him into the water, but slowly, the warmth began to pull the sharp sting from his skin.
Leaving Julian for only a moment, Kaelen ran to the village apothecary. He returned breathless with the painkillers and the Rose Salve. He helped Julian back to bed, patting his skin dry with the softest towel they owned.
Then, his large, callused hands were transformed by gentleness.
He opened the tub of salve, the scent of roses filling the air.
He began to rub it over Julian's bruised hips and onto his aching behind.
Julian groaned into the pillow, a mix of relief and lingering soreness, but the cooling cream was like magic against the inflammation.
"I have you," Kaelen whispered, his voice thick with devotion. "I'm right here."
Once the medicine was applied, Kaelen sat on the edge of the bed and picked up the bowl of fish soup.
He blew on each spoonful, carefully feeding Julian as if he were the most precious thing in existence.
Julian ate slowly, the warmth of the food and the care of his husband finally quieting the tremors in his body.
Under the weight of the painkillers and Kaelen's soothing touch, Julian's eyes grew heavy. Kaelen didn't move an inch, staying right there until Julian drifted into a deep, healing sleep.
Kaelen watched him breathe, a silent vow forming in his heart that no matter what the "Fire" demanded, he would never let Julian wake up in pain again.