Chapter 73
Emmerick
Two long days had passed since I’d opened my eyes and turned to see Elsedora, still asleep, beside me in bed at Lamoreaux.
Lark and Dritan had brought us both there after the battle ended.
El’s injuries prevented her from waking, and sullen visitors came and went. Fen and Asterie. Sybilla and Krait. My parents—all three of them. I could barely acknowledge their presence, because my attention never wandered from Elsedora.
She lay there, propped up on down pillows, with a serene expression of rest.
“Is she improving?” I asked Wyeth.
The petite woman redressed the wound above Elsedora’s right ear as I tapped my boot on the dark wood floor beside her.
When I grew restless, I’d leave El’s bedside only to clip plum blossoms from the trees to display on her vanity, mantel, and windowsill. There were at least a dozen vases scattered about the room.
Wyeth’s placating, toothless smile wrenched my heart. “The brain is a delicate organ to heal; one must be precise and it takes time. I am doing everything I can, King Mattock.”
So, no.
She hadn’t improved.
Wyeth’s brow pinched; she and Cassidee loved El like a sister. I didn’t doubt her care was in the best hands, but I grew impatient with the unknowns.
“Thank you,” I mumbled before sitting on the side of El’s bed, where I’d once slept with her in my arms.
Wyeth then looked over her shoulder and added, “The flowers are a nice touch—she’ll like them when she wakes.”
When. Not if…
A small gift of hope from the healer, who, despite my every plea, did not make me promises she couldn’t keep. Wyeth collected her supplies into a leather case and headed for the door.
I sighed and nodded. “I think so, too.”
“I will be back in an hour or two; if she stirs, use the bell.”
Wyeth pushed a strand of short black hair behind one ear and pointed to the charmed brass handbell on Elsedora’s side table. It would alert her if rang, no matter her distance.
There was no need to ring the bell for another two days.
I’d added more vases of plum blossoms, resorting to placing them on the floor when I ran out of space everywhere else. Blooming branches stuck out wildly in every direction, while morning sun leaked through the open windows.
The air smelled of the orchard with a bite of frost—like her.
I laid a thick quilt over Elsedora before slipping into bed beside her. Taking her warm hand in mine, I willed myself to get some rest, closing my eyes.
Just on the cusp of falling asleep, I heard a gentle groan.
My eyes shot open to find Elsedora turned toward me. A dazed but mesmerized glint filled those hazel eyes that I’d longed to see as she squeezed my hand.
Her gaze locked with mine. “You are very pretty. What’s your name?” she asked.
“I’m...” My blood spiked cold, and my mouth hung open. Fuck.
I wrapped my other hand around hers, encasing it, and lowered my head to stare at the space between us in bed.
This would be my luck—have a woman finally fall in love with me, only to have it knocked from her in battle. But she was here, alive, talking to me. I’d do just about anything to keep her by my side.
The bubbly sound of her chuckle made every moment of horror I’d endured melt away. When I met her gaze again, there were tears tracking her cheeks.
“Woman, that is not funny.”
“Oh, puppy. No one could ever hit me hard enough to forget you. A bit of payback for trying to give up on us back there.”
I could kill her.
Kissing her would suffice.
She grabbed the front of my tunic, and I moved over her, carefully cradling the back of her neck. As much as I wanted to devour her, there would be time for that when she was well.
Because I’d spend the rest of eternity with Elsedora.
I didn’t care where.
I didn’t care how.
She could be my advisor, my friend, or my wife. I’d prefer all three if she’d have it.
I wouldn’t scare her off with that talk yet… I’d just be with her. Be there for her. The gift of time granted us that.
“Emmerick,” she whispered between our lips. “I lo—”
Cutting off her statement, I took her mouth, groaning at how she tasted and how right it felt when her fingers laced through the curls at my nape.
I saw my future laid before me—quiet moments with her on plush furs in front of the parlor fire and times saving her from any eight-legged foe that entered her estate. Taking her to my parents’ cottage each week for dinner and building the type of life I’d only ever dreamed possible.
When we surfaced for air, I shook my head. “I won’t let you say that under these circumstances either.”
She stifled a laugh. “But I want to profess my lo—”
I placed my hand over her mouth and tsked. “No, no. That can wait. We have time.”
She smiled beneath my palm, looking up at me like I was worthy of so much more than I felt I deserved. It lit my heart aflame.
I removed my hand and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear before reaching for the bell to ring for Wyeth.
“Fine,” she agreed. “But I’ll hold you to your commitments. I’m starving. What’s for dinner, my King?”
THE END