“Much better. The healer imbued a salve with life mágik. I don’t really understand how it all worked, if I am honest, but it feels alright.” Seren allowed a hesitant smile. She was still getting used to life as a Rázuri. Where we had only waded into the shallows before, being at the palace was like diving into the oceans depths.
“Do you need help changing your bandages?” I asked, voice soft and unsure.
“Yes, actually, I was just returning to the healer now.” She held up a bundle of fresh bandages and healing salve. “It was a bit difficult to manage on my own.”
“I can do it,” I offered without hesitation.
“You don’t have to.” Seren flushed a lovely shade of pink.
“I want to, Ren. I slept in the hallway propped up against your bedchamber door to make sure you were taken care of. Let me do this for you,” I insisted, pulling the bandages and salve gently from her grasp.
“Alright,” Seren agreed, stepping aside so I could enter the room.
I closed the door behind me as I passed over the threshold.
Seren settled herself at the end of the bed. It was unmade, sheets and blankets twisted from her body moving against them in the night.
I tried not to think about her in this bed, for the trail of thought was far too intriguing and far too reminiscent of our kiss in the pub. I tried not to think about our lips pressed together, bodies flushed from wanting. Her hands in my hair. My fingers digging into her hips. I tried not to think about how badly I wanted to kiss her again, or how much I wanted to do far more.
I failed, miserably.
Seren waited patiently while I collected myself, eyes dark and breaths coming just a beat too fast. I licked my lips, suddenly dry, and watched her eyes dart to my mouth. I stepped closer, lifting my hands as if to touch her face.
The medical supplies in my grip brought me back to reality and the task I was supposed to complete. I was here to rebandage her wounds. I was not meant to push her back into the plush mattress, no matter how badly I wanted to. My head shook, and I got to work, unraveling the old bandages slowly so as not to pain the delicate flesh beneath.
Seren winced, her free hand moving to grasp the waistband of my trousers.
I muttered out a curse at the feel of her fingers on my bare skin, then an apology. “I’m sorry. It will be over soon.”
“I’m okay,” she assured me. “It’s really not so bad.”
I nodded as I continued to work. I discarded the soiled bandages, pleased that the skin beneath was soft pink and no longer blistered. I twisted the lid from the glass jar, scooping salve onto my fingers. I rubbed the concoction between my hands, warming it so it would smooth over Seren’s skin with ease.
She reached both arms out between us, and I rubbed the salve over her skin with a feather light touch. Seren’s eyes drifted closed, but she did not appear to be in pain. Her lower lip caught between her teeth then released.
My eyes zeroed in on the movement.
When I was satisfied, I wrapped fresh bandages around her wounds and tied them off neatly. My voice was gruff, more gravely than it should have been. “There. Good as new.”
Seren looked up at me from below her lashes. With her wounds taken care of, it was even more difficult to ignore the way I towered over her. Her hands gripped the sheets beneath her, fingers twisting then releasing.
A strand of her dark, silky hair slipped from her braids. I caught it in my hand, letting it slide across the sensitive skin of my fingertips before tucking it behind her ear. My hand lingered, cradling her jaw and stroking the soft skin of her neck.
I wondered if I should kiss her again. I may have blamed our first on being a necessary distraction to avoid being captured by the guards, but if I was honest with myself, I knew there were a dozen distractions I could have employed.
I kissed Seren then because I wanted to. I still did.
Seren’s lips parted as I leaned forward, hand braced on the end of the bed. Her chin tilted up. Her pupils were blown wide, and her eyes fluttered shut. Our noses brushed, and my eyelids drifted low. Her breath was a ghost across my cheek.
A knock sounded at the door, and both of us jolted.
I pulled away, albeit reluctantly. My knuckles turned white as I gripped the bed frame too tightly. My breaths were shallow, and I kept my eyes down as Seren moved toward the door.
Princess Ayla waited on the other side in a pale pink gown. There was no crown upon her gleaming hair, as I expected there would be.
“Good morning,” Ayla said with a curt nod. Her face held that unconvincing indifference upon it once more.
As someone who had become very practiced at reading emotions, I knew that Ayla felt everything just a little too much. I felt a pang of sympathy for the woman, for what she had lost and for knowing she must reject those feelings if she wished to maintain her position of power.
