Chapter Nineteen
Asmara awoke to the sounds of snoring.
It took her a moment to realize what she was hearing and when her eyes opened, she had no idea where she was. Nothing was familiar. It was a badly cluttered chamber, with dust everywhere, and sunlight was streaming in from the cracks in a shuttered window.
Turning her head slightly, she realized that she was drooling. Wiping at her chin in disgust, she lifted her head, trying to determine where she was. More snoring drew her attention and she looked down to see Blayth sleeping on the floor next to her bed.
He was sleeping on his back, his mouth hanging open as he snored loudly enough to rattle his teeth.
Then, he’d stop, as if he’d awoken himself, and shift around before falling into a deep sleep again.
The snoring came back. Asmara watched this cycle go on for a few minutes, enough to bring a smile to her lips.
In truth, it was rather fascinating watching him sleep.
Moving around in the bed, she could feel the pain in her shoulder, but it wasn’t too terribly bad.
Cautiously, she sat up, waiting for a great stabbing pain, but there was none.
Sore, yes, but no agony. She sat all the way up, gingerly moving her left shoulder as much as she could, thinking she felt much better than she should given the seriousness of the wound.
Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she saw that she couldn’t get to the floor without stepping on Blayth.
The man would have to move.
He continued to snore and every time he did, she tapped him on the belly with her foot.
He’d stop, shift, and then start snoring again.
Finally, after five or six taps with her foot to his belly, he opened his eyes and just stared at the ceiling.
Asmara wondered if he was even awake. But then, his eyes moved to her, slowly, until their gazes met. She grinned.
“You snore like an old dog,” she said.
He blinked and licked his lips. “Is that so?” he said hoarsely. “And you talk in your sleep.”
Her smile vanished. “I do not!”
“How do you know?”
She didn’t have a snappy retort for him so she turned her nose up. “That is not a nice thing to say.”
He grinned, pushing himself up so he was still lying back but braced up on his elbows. “You cannot imagine the things you said in your sleep,” he teased because she was fun to tease. “Scandalous things. I never knew you had such thoughts.”
She scowled. “I did not.”
“Of course you did,” he said. “But you spoke of your undying love for me, mostly.”
She looked at him, aghast. “I did no such thing!”
His face fell. “Then you do not love me?”
Her shocked expression transformed into something thoughtful, then embarrassed, then warm. The jesting mood of the conversation faded as something quite real took hold.
“I told you that I would marry you, did I not?” she said softly.
“That does not mean you love me.”
“Do you love me?”
She had turned it around on him but rather than get defensive, he smiled. “There is nothing about you that is not to love,” he said quietly, his sleepy eyes glimmering at her. “How do you feel?”
Asmara was touched by his words, warming her in ways she could not have imagined. His question had caught her off guard at first, but his reply had been honest and sweet. That giddy feeling swept her again, so strongly that she was nearly lightheaded with it.
“I feel wonderful,” she said. “And there is nothing about you that is not to love, either.”
It was a bold statement from a woman who was unused to speaking on her feelings.
With a massive grin on his face, Blayth sat up all the way and reached out, cupping her face and bringing her lips to his for a sweet kiss.
But their lips against one another sparked an immediate blaze, one that roared for a few seconds until Asmara lifted her left arm to put it around his neck.
The moment she did so, a great pain bolted through her shoulder and she immediately gasped, dropping her arm.
“Are you well?” he asked, great concern on his features as he helped her hold her arm and shoulder still. “I did not mean for a kiss to injure you.”
Asmara shook her head. “It did not,” she said, holding her left arm against her chest. “I simply did not think. It really does not feel too badly, so long as I do not move it too much.”
He began to peel back the bandages to see if she tore the stitches. “Then we must make sure you do not move it until it heals,” he said. “It does not look like the stitches are torn. Jestin did an excellent job of tending the wound because it is healing very well already.”
Asmara was relieved to hear that. “That is good news,” she said. Then, she looked around the cluttered, dusty chamber. “Where is Jestin?”
Blayth yawned and stood up, scratching his head. “Probably in the church,” he said. “That seems to be where he goes in the morning.”
Asmara looked up at him. “How would you know that?”
“Because he went there yesterday morning.”
She frowned. “Yesterday?” she said. “How long have we been here?”
He looked at her. “This is the second day,” he said. “You have been asleep for two nights and a day. The poppy potion he gave you must have been potent.”
Asmara was surprised to hear that. She felt groggy, that was true, but she didn’t feel terrible. But then, a thought seized her and she reached up, grasping Blayth’s hand.
“No one has come looking for us, have they?” she asked anxiously.
He patted her hand. “Nay,” he assured her. “Not that I have seen. Even so, the horses are tucked away where they cannot be easily seen. When you feel better, we shall leave.”
“I feel better now,” she insisted. “We can leave today.”
He eyed her. “There is no great rush,” he said. “We can afford the time for you to heal.”
She shook her head and stiffly stood up from the bed. “We cannot,” she said. “Every day that we delay is another day that Payton-Forrester might leave Lioncross Abbey. If we want to catch the man, then we must hurry.”
She had a point, but Blayth wasn’t going to insist they depart for Lioncross sooner than she was ready. He might push his men like that, but he wasn’t going to push her like that.
“And we will,” he said. “But it is my suspicion that he will be there for some time. When we released him from the vault, he had been starved and tortured, and I can imagine the ride to Lioncross must have taken a lot out of the man. Therefore, I would wager to guess that he will be at Lioncross for a time until he has sufficiently recovered his strength. I think he will be there for at least a few more days, certainly enough time for us to make it to Lioncross, too. Besides… given that we have stopped at a church, I had an idea.”
She wasn’t following his train of thought. “What idea?”
“You said you would marry me, and we have a priest at our disposal,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “Mayhap we should take advantage of the situation.”
Asmara quickly knew what he meant, and her cheeks flushed, feeling her excitement. “I think he believes that we are already married,” she said. “When we first came here and he asked our names, I never told him that we were not married.”
Blayth snickered at the thought of duping the priest. “He did let us sleep in the same chamber,” he said. “He must believe we are married. I hope he is not too angry to find out that we are not.”
“I suppose there is one way to find out.”
Blayth shrugged. “True enough,” he said. “I will find him. Meanwhile, you can change out of your torn and soiled clothing if you wish. I will bring your satchel to you so that you can clean up.”
Asmara thought that sounded like a wonderful idea.” I would be appreciative,” she said. “And mayhap some water? I would like to wash my hands and face.”
He put up his hands. “Remain here,” he said. “I will bring you everything. You do not need to move around overly with that shoulder.”
Smiling faintly, Asmara sat back down on the bed, watching him as he quickly headed into the other chamber.
She realized that she could get very used to the man’s chivalry, something that had endeared her to him from the start.
He was kind, gentle, and thoughtful. As she’d told him – what wasn’t there to love?
She patiently waited for him to return with her satchel, and he did so quickly.
The sun was becoming brighter now, sending long beams of yellow light into the room from the cracks in the shutters.
Once Blayth brought her satchel and a bowl of cold, clear water from the bucket near the hearth, he went to the window and pulled back the shutters, letting the daylight in.
From the window, he could see the vibrant green landscape beyond.
There were trees in the way, but he could see the meadow across the road and the white flowers that grew there.
There were some clouds in the sky but, to him, he’d never seen a more beautiful day.
With Asmara by his side, every day was beautiful.
“It looks to be good traveling weather,” he told her. “I shall go find you something to eat and then I shall speak with Jestin. Do you require anything else?”
Asmara had untied her bag and was pulling forth items, trying not to use her left arm as she did it.
“I do not believe so,” she said. “But I am rather hungry.”
“I would believe that.”
“What did you do all day yesterday while I slept?”
Blayth made a funny little laugh, scratching at his temple as he turned to look at her.
“Suffered through one of the worst aching heads I have ever had,” he said.
When she looked at him curiously, he explained.
“Jestin makes cider from the apples in his orchard that is like drinking lightning. It is potent enough to get a man very drunk if he is not careful. Unfortunately, I was not careful.”
Asmara laughed at him. “Let that be a lesson to you,” she said. “Beware of priests and their ciders.”