Page 35 of Once Upon A Bear

He widened his eyes at her. “What did you do?”

She smiled, though it didn’t quite meet her eyes. “I healed you. It’s what I do.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “It should be hurting.”

Guinevere shrugged one shoulder. “I’m good at what I do.”

Something wasn’t right. Yes, she was good at what she did, but she was acting strangely, and he was feeling far better than he ought to, given the severity of the wounds. “You did something,” he said.

She didn’t respond, but her shoulders slumped even more.

“You did something with your magic,” he guessed, “something that made me feel better, but took it out of you.”

She didn’t answer again, which was all the confirmation he needed. “I wish you hadn’t done that,” he said as he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to her bed.

The fact that she didn’t protest said more than any words would have, because Guinevere, in her right mind, would never have allowed him to do so after being recently injured himself.

“I would have handled the recovery,” he chided as he laid her down, unlaced her boots, and slid them off her feet before tucking her under the blanket. “You’re not allowed to tax yourself so badly for me.”

“You aren’t allowed to tell me what to do,” Guinevere murmured, the words far quieter than he liked.

“I don’t care,” he told her. “For once, you’re going to be the patient.”

Guinevere let out a noise that was probably supposed to be a protest, which he happily ignored as he made his way to the fire and put on the kettle, which still had some water in it.

“I’m supposed to be the healer,” Guinevere muttered sleepily.

“If you’re going to be a healer, then you need to stop doing things that require other people to take care of you,” Gideon pointed out.

He rolled his ankle around while he waited for the water to heat. It felt brand new. Well, maybe not completely, but it certainly felt well enough that he didn’t have any issue walking. He even jumped up and down a couple of times to see how that affected it, and there was no pain at all.

It was probably best not to overdo it, though.

Gideon found the tea on the mantel and prepared a mug with the tea leaves and a generous helping of honey.

Honey made everything better.

He brought her the tea when it was ready and sat on the edge of her bed, helping her sit up and supporting her as she drank it.

“Don’t overdo it on my account again,” he warned her, “or I’ll be very upset with you.”

“I suppose we can’t have that,” she grumbled as she drank the tea, but her eyes brightened when she had the first sip. “You put honey in it.”

Her voice was still weak, but the surprise in it made him grin. “I did,” he said. “Honey makes everything better.”

And if her eyes were able to brighten like that, she would recover.

“It helps me regain my energy faster,” she told him. “The sweetness helps refill my well of magic.”

“It must be because you’re so sweet,” he teased, then turned as red as a poppy. He shouldn’t have said that. “I’m sorry,” he began, but Guinevere was smiling.

“Thank you,” she said, her cheeks flushing a very pretty shade of pink. At least they matched in their embarrassment.

“Now you need to stay in bed,” Gideon told her.

“I know,” she admitted, “but I don’t want to.”

“I don’t care,” Gideon announced. “You’ll have to stay in bed until you are better, or I’ll be forced to yell at you.”