Chapter 24
Phaedra lay on her bed, the world swaying around her. The pounding in her head seemed to ebb and flow with an unknown rhythm, and she tried in vain to gain control of her breathing, to relax her clenched muscles.
That she was exhausted was certain. It was the only sane explanation to what was happening to her. To the way her mind seemed to slip with increasing frequency, twisting with things she should not be thinking of while forgetting others as if it had been someone else who had done them.
She needed to rest. To take care of herself. Or at least allow someone else to do it for her. Someone who seemed more than willing to take on the responsibility.
She opened her eyes slowly, squinting against the warm afternoon light spilling into her room, and she wondered, not for the first time, how Nathaniel was feeling about all of this.
It had never truly been a question that he was affected by her presence.
Indeed, she could trace the marks of his interest to their very first encounter.
Yet not until her own unruly thoughts had turned onto avenues they should never have ventured into, did she see the change in him.
And the way he looked at her now, with such longing and care, spoke of something deeper than mere attraction.
She worried to think what their remaining time would be like. What it might bring.
She turned her head, her gaze following the path of the golden rays as they met the deep emerald of her walls, and her breath finally eased into a gentler cadence.
Maybe it would not be such a horrible thing. Maybe, instead, it would be freeing to finally acknowledge this thing that lived there, just beneath the surface of their skin. To finally ask for what she truly wanted and be given just that.
Her lips tilted into a tentative smile as she watched the light braid itself into the darkness of the shadows, the graceful web of their joining so delicate and so beautiful that any prey it would bind would never even know it was in danger.
And only when the light would slowly fade, the gold turning to silver then dulling to gray before finally seeping into the black of beyond, would it realize the end had come.
Phaedra blinked, then sat up in her bed.
The room lay dark around her, the last light of day quickly slipping over the horizon.
She ran her hands over her face, trying to wipe away the disorientation and the sleep that had claimed her without her notice, then glanced at the clock on the wall.
She had missed dinner, but it was not very late yet.
Lighting a candle, she slipped out of bed, stepping before the mirror to smooth her hair and dress. But her hands stopped as her eyes fell onto a plate of food placed upon her vanity. She picked up the note, recognizing the handwriting.
Should you be hungry
— N
She stared at the words, at the way he had chosen to sign his name, the warmth of the gesture overpowering in its concern.
He cared.
The knowledge wrapped around her like something heavy, the weight sweet and foreign and so unexpected that all thoughts of hunger fled her body.
She no longer wanted to eat. She wanted to see him.