She shakes her head.
“Shall we...sleep then?” he asks.
She glances at the bed before returning his gaze. “Sleeping seems reasonable.”
“Elowyn.” His voice comes out low, full of all the desire filling him. Breathing out slowly, he looks away. “Your trunk is here. Shall I give you a few minutes alone?”
“Don’t leave. Please. I...want you to stay.”
His eyes snap toward her. What is she suggesting?
“My...my arm hurts,” she whispers. “I...might need help.”
“Do you want me to find you a maid?”
She shakes her head again, and he stares at her as he tries to find his voice.
“Are you asking me to help you?” he eventually manages.
She must feel his heart racing.
“I don’t want you to leave me. And if you’re here, it seems silly to...to find someone else to help me. Unless you don’t want—”
“I do.” He says it so fast she smiles in response, and he chuckles before looking down at his hands. “I’m just not sure—”
“Where this is leading?”
He looks up again and nods.
“I don’t know,” she says softly. “My arm is sore and my...my magic is hot...but...I don’t want you to leave.”
“I don’t want to leave.”
“Then stay, Rominy. Please.”
Her eyes mirror the ache growing within him, and he nods.
Stars above. What did he just agree to?
When she pushes herself up, cradling her sore arm, he hurries to help her.
Her wound really does hurt. He should have asked the doctor for some sort of pain reliever for after the anesthetic wore off, but it didn’t occur to him earlier.
“Shall I send for the doctor?” he asks. “He might have something to ease the pain.”
Elowyn offers Rominy a withering glare, and for a moment, she looks so much like Cerian that Rominy almost laughs.
He nods. “No doctor. Understood.”
As she moves toward her trunk, she wobbles, and he steadies her.
“Maybe...maybe I’ll sleep in my clothing,” she murmurs.
She’s wearing stays. He felt them when she was in his arms earlier. She can’t sleep like that.
“No. I’ll help you. It may be awkward, but...”
“As long as we’re awkward together?” A smile tugs at her lips, and he nods.
