Page 72 of The Oracle of Dusk

“Then let’s put them to good use.” Theron stood and marched towards the door. “Bring us a warm bath, new clothes, new sheets, and breakfast.”

She was about to tell him that it didn’t work like that here in the vivarium, where the baths were shared, new clothes a rarity, new sheets earned and all meals served in the dining hall under a watchful eye. But to her shock, the attendant not only rushed off to do just that, but did so without any rudeness. He chuckled at her open-mouthed stare.

“If you think my being a king warrants better treatment, save your shock. This is because I warned them of the plague last night, and took it upon myself to care for you in their stead while keeping you sequestered here to prevent any spread. Had I not, many of their friends and family would not have been able to flee the city before the gates were shut this morning.”

“Am I still a danger to others?”

“No, the red mark is gone, but leaving this room would make them feel uneasy.”

“Still, I should go back.”

“Why? So you can sit alone in your room? Is my company so odious?” He grinned.

“It’s not that…” she said. But she always kept her artefact close at hand. The idea of being parted from it, potentially allowing someone to steal her only link back to her own time, was too much to bear. “I have very little left in the world, but it’s all in that room.”

“I see,” he said, going to the door once more. “Clear the hallways. We’re gathering her things and bringing them here.”

A call went through the guest palace to clear the way. Theron held out his hand for her.

“Madam fairy.”

Aurora took it, leaning on him for support. Her fever was worse than she thought, for by the time she arrived at her room, a new layer of sweat had her nightgown clinging to her. She grabbed her hidden pack, stuffed her new artefact inside, grateful it had remained hidden, and then added in the few other odds and ends she’d been provided. Theron carried her pack as she all but hung off him for the return journey. By the time they were back, a tub with a folding screen, a change of clothes and food had been placed inside his room.

“I’ll sit on the terrace to give you a chance to bathe, Your Majesty.”

“You look like you’d get carried away by a stuff breeze. No, you’re going to bathe first so you don’t fall asleep and drown in the tub while I’m not looking.”

She had no energy to fight him on it. If he preferred chivalry, she wouldn’t protest. The bath did feel nice, as did scrubbing herself clean without worrying about a leering audience. It was getting out of the tub that proved troublesome. The warm waters were intrinsically soothing for her aching joints.

“You haven’t fallen asleep, have you?”

Aurora was jolted out of her dozing by Theron’s voice.

“Almost,” she admitted, hauling herself from the tub and drying off as best she could.

She ran a comb through her hair, slipped into a gown and left her hair to dry as she approached the small table seated near the window. The food didn’t appear particularly appetizing in her current state.

“Eat,” Theron warned her as he left to bathe himself.

She picked at the platter before her, not really tasting much of anything, before she gave up and laid down on the bed.

The bed.

That they’d shared last night.

Aurora covered her face as a heat wholly unrelated to her fever crept up her neck. It hadn’t been like that, she reminded herself. She’d been severely ill and he’d been taking care of her, and they’d both been far too exhausted to do anything but sleep. Now that they’d established themselves as allies, there would be no more questions about potentially illicit goings-on between them. Besides, he couldn’t possibly want her to remain in his room overnight again. There was simply no good reason to get worked up over this.

Theron walked out from behind the privacy screen, his long, wet hair a veritable bird’s nest. She’d noticed the other day that he’d tied it up, but that it had been messy then as well. He scowled at the comb before abandoning it.

“Are you not going to brush your hair?”

“It’s a tangled mess. I’ll have one of the attendants do it later,” he muttered.

Aurora giggled. He really was a king.

“I’m surprised you managed to bathe yourself, Your Majesty,” she teased.

“My hair is a mess because I spent two weeks living as a Viridian general’s captive,” he growled.

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