Peanuts and caramel.
One hundred percent caramel.
“Sweetheart.”
Sweetheart?My heart thuds.
Sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheart.
“Are you bleeding?” he asks.
Embarrassed heat blazes to my cheeks, and I go perfectly statue stiff.
“It’s okay.” He whispers a swear that just barely makes it to me. “You’re okay. That’s normal for women here. I’m sorry. If I’d only thought to mention it…just in case this isn’t the way things were in your old world. I’m so sorry. Will you be okay for a few minutes while I go get Nes? She’ll have medicine to help with the pain and everything else you’ll need.”
Whenthe painstabs at me again, I say, “Please.”
And his footsteps leave me, running.
Chapter 29
♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥
Don’t mind me. Just vibing.
“You’re supposed to fix this,” Ines says to Samson, once I’ve been given medicine, the most adorable period underwear I have ever seen, a blanket, a warm pack, and a cup of tea.
I’m snuggled up on the couch, tired, worn, embarrassed, ashamed, but otherwise quite pampered. The medicine worked so fast. So very fast. It wouldn’t surprise me if it’s infused with magic, like the health potions.
“How am I supposed to fixthis?” Samson arches a brow at the woman, who is standing before me, in black and gold constellation pajamas, with her arms crossed. “It’s a way of nature. Women bleed once about every other season. I can’t fix that.”
“When you’re married, you can.”
Crimson takes hold of Samson’s face while I choke on my tea. He stumbles through his response, “Nes…that…we were messing with Austin. We aren’tactuallymarried.”
Ines cocks her head. “Oh, I know. Lia could hardly hold back her giggles when she told me.”
“She knew we were joking?” I blurt.
Ines swings around to face me. “Duh. She’s alittle sister. Ofcourseshe can pick up on an opportunity to mess with her brother. That’s, like, her whole career. The blessing thing is a hobby.” Ines fiddles with her nails, mumbling, “Especially since she doesn’t charge for it.”
So there’s no problem, and no one actually thinks we’re married.
That’s…great.
I sink more into my blankets and let the steam from my tea fog my glasses.
“When are you going to wife Citrus up, though?” Ines asks.
My already strained bodily functions lurch, turning into an emotional soup inside me.
Ines swings my way again. “Or, you. When are you going to husband him?”
“Wh-what?” I provide my bestI have no idea what you’re talking aboutexpression as I dutifully finish the dregs of my tea and invest the rest of my energy into setting the cup aside.
“Well, one of you has to do it. Who’s gonna break first?”
Face still red, Samson echoes, “Break?”
