That’s the first thing I’m aware of. Pain everywhere. Pain like I’ve never known.
My body is on fire from the outside, the heat warring with my internal flame to make me feverish, damp with sweat.
That’s the second thing I’m aware of.
And very quickly, the third is Ingrid. Nearby somewhere. My body may be battered and broken, but it’s alive enough to recognize Ingrid’s presence.
Prising my eyes open—even my eyelids feel burned—I see I’m in a tent, and then my other senses kick in—the smell of ointments and salves, the wails of the injured. Field hospital, then.
I don’t know how I made it out of the river. The last thing I remember is it dragging me under, my lungs full of water. How many of my men made it? The villagers?
My stomach turns, bile rising in the back of my throat, and I groan as I lean over the side of the bed.
A soft, damp cloth wipes the sweat from my brow, and I look up to see my beautiful bride.
“Ingrid…” I rasp, so happy to see her unharmed. I’d never forgive myself if she was on one of these cots.
“Shh.” She wipes more sweat from my face, and it’s soothing enough that I’m no longer worried about being sick. I lay back on the cot with a heavy exhale. “You need to rest.”
I grunt a response, then brace myself for the lecture I’m sure is coming. How I took unnecessary risk. How I put myself in danger.
“Do you feel up to field updates?” she asks, bringing a glass of water to my lips. It’s the last thing I want to see right now, but my mouth is impossibly dry, so I accept it anyway, nodding for her to continue.
“The waters are still rising, so we’ve continued evacuations downriver,” she says, gentle yet methodical while tending to my wounds and delivering her report like a seasoned veteran. “We’ve negotiated with the lords in Amberfold to flood some of their fields in an effort to mitigate some of the damage to villages. Lift your leg.”
“Casualties?” I croak, throat still raw from shouting orders for hours on end.
“There have been some minor injuries, mostly from falls. It’s too soon to say for sure, but I’ve not heard of any unaccounted or missing persons. There was enough warning, and the dam held on one side, some of the Wardens were saying it may be salvageable—”
“No.”
Ingrid arches a brow at me.
“The dam was a mistake.”
She nods, a quiet, satisfied smile curling her lips as she returns to fussing over me.
She knew. While I wrestled with choices and questioned my every move, Ingrid simply knows right from wrong without debate. She understands Emerald more than I’ve given her credit for.
She’s more than my bride or the queen-to-be; she’s my counterpart, a partner in ways that even Val has never gotten close to. I didn’t have to be conscious for Ingrid to manage things precisely as I would have. She has been steady when I’ve faltered, soft when I can only be rough. She’s kind and understanding, clever, infuriatingly stubborn…
“...make a detour on the return—” Ingrid yelps when I grab her and pull her down into a kiss. I can’t help it. Kissing Ingrid feels like home and sparring at the same time. Comforting and exciting. Thrilling and too sweet to let a single opportunity pass me by.
She was in kissing range, so she’s getting kissed.
“Xandril!” she hisses, chuckling the whole time. “There’s a whole tent of people here.”
“Mm,” I grumble, pulling her in for another kiss.
This time she melts into it, meeting my every invitation with an answer and invitation of her own. A soft moan escapes her lips and her hands settle on my scorched chest. I don’t react, but Ingrid instantly pulls back, cursing under her breath.
“I’m sorry, are you okay? I shouldn’t—hey!” With a grunt, I haul Ingrid up into the cot with me, holding her against my chest.
“I don’t ever want to hear you apologize for touching me,” I say, tightening my arms when she tries to wriggle free.
“Xandril!” she scolds. It’s perfect. My name on her lips, her playfully angry at me only because she cares. I’d suffer all the burns and nearly drowning a hundred times more for a moment like this. “You’re going to re-injure yourself,” she huffs between attempts to break free, her angry tone not very convincing while paired with laughter.
I hold her tight and kiss the top of her head.
