Page 64 of Sunder

A glorious day.

So when Mama had brought the helpers to remove all the clothes she couldn’t wear any longer, she’d timidly asked to keep that one. Just for a little while.

Mama had given her a long look before she tucked it back. “Not for wearing,” she reminded her, which was fine. She didn’t need to. She just wanted to look and remember.

“I’d like that one, please,” Orma urged, knowing he had more to say and she would pay attention, truly. But the antsy feeling was back as he held it, and she readied herself for him to question her.

But he didn’t. Just tucked it with a little more care into her trunk.

“If we find there are tasks you can do, will you want to learn to do them?” Athan asked, this time allowing his glance to linger a little longer on her. “Or should I try to work out engaging helpers as I do for the infirmary?”

It wasn’t a threat. His posture was unassuming as he delved back into her wardrobe, and yet she still felt the little pinpricksof unease. There was a right answer, surely. She should be bold like Firen. Tackle any new tasks with enthusiasm and rigour.

But was she allowed to admit she had no great affinity for kitchen duties? And the thought of wringing out laundry exhausted her?

Her hands curled about her skirts, and she tried not to become defensive. It was a necessary question, and he deserved an answer. “Can I have an example?”

He pulled out her thickest cloak and eyed it speculatively. She would not need it for at least a season, and even then she tended not to venture out when the weather was coldest. “All right,” Athan mused, his eyes crinkling about the edges as he considered. “A birthing mother is having complications and I cannot leave.” There it was. He was going to ask her to learn healing with him, and she was going to have to refuse.

Adamantly.

She braced herself, but did not interrupt, because that would be rude.

“Midday will have passed and while I had intended to be back so I could ensure you have food to eat, but I cannot get to you. Not without risking mother and baby. Will you be able to fend for yourself, or should I engage a minder to check in with you?”

She hated this. It was one thing when she was the invalid in her parents’ home. It was quite another when her mate had to ask if she needed a keeper to come and save her from starving herself because she did not know how to cook. Or if she could even navigate his home on her worst days.

Athan looked at her, his expression gentle. “There is no wrong answer,” he promised her. “I just need you taken care of, either by you, me, or someone else, when I cannot be there.”

“Can,” she started, her throat tightening so much she had to pause and swallow before she could continue. “Can I wait to answer you until...” she hated the very thought of it so much ittook a very great effort to even acknowledge it would happen. “I think I’d like you to see some of the notes first,” she finished, breathless and miserable. “I don’t want you to think I’m being lazy or I’m not interested in getting better.” She scrubbed at her face and then settled for rubbing two fingers against the bond in her chest. “I just...”

She hadn’t heard him move, but suddenly he was there beside the bed. Beside her. Taking her hand and squeezing it lightly. Breathing deeply. Waiting for her to follow. It should be annoying. Should feel intrusive and perhaps even a little controlling.

Why then did her muscles ease? Did her breaths come without the aching difficulty? And while her worries did not settle completely, they grew quieter. More manageable.

He didn’t resent her. Yet. And she’d like to keep it that way for as long as possible.

“I will take care of you,” Athan promised. No, it was deeper than that. Stronger. A vow. Solemn and sincere. “I will not punish you for hurting.”

Her lip wobbled despite her best efforts to remain calm.

“Would you mind if I went to talk to your father about the bed? Can you trust me not to conspire without you?”

No.

His hand came to curl about her cheek, his thumb smoothing against overheated skin.

“Yes.”

Which meant a smile was her reward, and her stomach tightened and for one tremulous moment, she thought he was going to lean down and kiss her before he left.

But he didn’t, and maybe she liked when he was a wretch and took a little more than was proper without asking.

She refused to consider what that said about her. Only let herself feel a moment’s disappointment before she shoved it back.

She would not nap while he was gone. Would not weep, either. She’d get up and finish the rest of the wardrobe, most especially removing the thick cloak from the top of the trunk because she really did not need it yet.

Her siblings all had rooms still situated with old things from when they lived here. They’d grown sparse over time, as little things were collected or purged, depending on their need.

---