Page 46 of Bloom
“It’s fine.” Aleric wanted to go back to sleep, hope Jaime hadn’t secretly fucked him over, and not think too much. “I’ll go to the other side…in a few minutes.”
When he recovered from lifting himself enough to drink.
“You need another cover sheet. Come on. Roll over toward the middle. I’ll change it. You shouldn’t be on a damp sheet.”
Aleric suppressed a sigh and managed to do as asked since he had a point. Jaime removed the sheet and put down a new one. All of the bedding would need to be changed soon.
Jaime didn’t ask him to shift again. He simply planted a knee on the bed and lifted Aleric to move him.
Elira, he had no idea how annoying it was. It wasn’t just that Aleric felt like a pile of crap, it was that he was weak and beyond vulnerable. He wasn’t breaking his promise, but it was bad enough to be in such a position. He couldn’t defend himself against anyone, especially someone bigger than him. Jaime picking him up so easily ground in the knowledge.
If Gautier came in at that moment, and no one was around, he could take his sword and skewer Aleric right there. Why the lord’s son was dead in a puddle of blood wasn’t an incident that could be explained away with a few words. The point remained; he was vulnerable.
And even if Jaime was trustworthy at the moment, what about in a little while? Gautier might get to him soon. Who knew what he’d say? Aleric had said later like he’d tell Jaime the truth.
Actually doing it was unthinkable. He’d been alone for years, and he didn’t see how it could change. Why bother explaining anything?
He jerked, suddenly realizing nothing was covering him. Jaime draped a new blanket over him a second later.
“It’s clean. I won't be far. Go to sleep, all right?”
Gladly.
***
He woke up later to find he wasn’t quite as achy. The medicine had helped, and whatever was in his system to cause slow death might’ve been wearing off too. His breathing wasn’t so labored, although the weight wasn’t gone. He was too hot as well, his skin hurt, and he had no energy.
Overall, each symptom wasn’t quite as bad, and he said so when Father asked him.
“You haven’t changed?” Aleric was pretty sure Father had been wearing the same clothes last night.
“I’ve either been in here or the sitting room. I borrowed a shirt of yours.”
He didn’t want to get up, but Father said it was high time he pissed and changed. It wasn’t good that he hadn’t passed water in so long, and he made Aleric drink more juice and water before ignoring his protests.
“I’d rather let you stay in bed, and I know you feel like shit. It’s also not good to stay in the clothes you’ve been sweating in, and it'll make you sicker. A servant is going to change the bedding too.”
“Jaime already gave me a new blanket.”
“I know, but everything should be replaced, including your pillows and the cases.”
Father pulled him up to sit. That alone took what little energy Aleric had, and he didn’t see how he was supposed to walk.
“I got you.”
“You're going to hurt yourself more.”
“I'll live. It’s stairs, getting up, and sitting that hurt them the worst. Walking straight isn't like bending pressure.”
Father picked him up bridal style to carry him into the privy room. Aleric had a stool, and he had to sit and lean on the wall while Father hastily undressed him and gave him a quick clean-up with a sponge dipped in the basin he’d filled.
He was a good Father to get his son out of his sweaty clothes and clean him up so he’d be a little more comfortable.
Why couldn’t he believe his son and keep him safe from other things?
“Do you remember anything else about those men?” asked Father. Rustles and little noises from beyond the closed door must have been a servant changing the bedding.
“No. There were three with their faces covered. Grey clothes. Nothing stood out.”
