Varius probably had a warm, earthy kitchen back at his hometown, not overflowing with sorcerous experiments, and with people who were soft and gentle and knew how to comfort and relax rather than command him into a chair and strip him.
Then again. He was here. If he had that kitchen to go to in the Aurelian Empire, it wasn’t one with a sorceress who could protect herself—and him.
And he probably didn’t have it, or he wouldn’t have looked so godscursed tired all the time.
Grabbing a stack of towels, Theira crossed back to the table and set the mug down.
“Let’s see what we’ve got,” she said briskly to disguise how her thoughts clamored that she was finally, after so many imaginings, going to touch his body with her own two hands—the man was bleeding, for Gaia’s sake.
She brought a towel to the first clear source of blood on his arm.
Varius’ frankly unreasonable abs flexed as he braced against the touch on his open wound.
She glared at him until he blinked in apparent confusion as she wiped him off.
“Of course it won’t hurt for me to clean off the blood,” Theira said impatiently. “I’m asorceress.”
Though she could make it hurt if she wanted to, and maybe that was what really bothered her—that he might assume pain was all he could expect from her.
Varius’ eyes were dark as he focused on her with thrilling intensity and he said gruffly, “I know.”
She had enough control not to shiver.
Of all people, he knew.
And he was here, letting her use sorcery on him withoutcomment,let alone protest, which spoke to either a deep level of trust in someone who’d nearly killed him more than once, or profound desperation.
Theira needed to know which.
For now, shehmmmed and turned back to her task of cleaning him enough to take stock of his wounds, and maybe also his muscles for future daydreaming.
Varius directed her to the root of his injuries more than once, and she kept her expression professional. She’d offered to patch him up and he was taking her at her word, and maybe that shouldn’t mean so much, but it did.
No one ever took someone like her at face value.
She’d worked hard for that, in fact, and now she reaped what she’d sown.
Through it all, after that initial instinctual tightening, Varius held himself impossibly still. The armor had protected his vital organs, but he definitely had some broken ribs from whatever he’d faced to get all the way here—and he’d come on foot, which meant he’d been running forhourslike this.
Even without her movements adding to his pain, this had to be excruciating, but he was alwayssocontrolled.
Then again, maybe he was just repulsed by her and keeping it to himself until she’d fixed him.
Or maybe it was something else.
Theira stepped back. “Start drinking the tea. I’ll get some salves.”
She was already across the room before Varius asked, “What’s in it?”
She almost sagged in relief. Thank Gaia, something other than blind obedience. He wasn’t dead yet.
Just broken.
Without missing a beat, Theira answered, “Mind control potion.”
A faint huff. She glanced back over her shoulder as Varius met her gaze and deliberately took a sip.
“Always such a liar,” he murmured. Fondly—or was that her imagination? It wasn’t as though Theira had any experience relating to another person honestly. She’d have to decide—later.
