Page 25 of Always
“He responds to your touch,” said a wobbly older voice above me.
“If only that were enough.” The reply was sad and weary. Felicia?
I was suddenly conscious of her fingers wrapped around my hand squeezing gently.
“Perhaps if you gave him a kiss,” the older person said.
There was a pause. Then a whispered, “I really shouldn’t—”
“It is quite clear you love him.”
“It is?”
“Of course. You can hardly eat or sleep with your worry. And you have rarely left his side in the four days you have been here.”
Four days?And where washere? Were we inside the holy house?
“Now go ahead. Give him true love’s kiss, for it is oft the strongest weapon for fighting the battle with death.”
Already I could feel my pulse gaining strength. Did Felicia love me? Surely, that wasn’t correct. She was of the noble class. She couldn’t stoop to loving someone like me. I was a nobody, only her protector, the simple soldier who’d been assigned to serve the king’s dying wish.
Felicia’s fingers tightened around mine.
Part of me cautioned my brain to do the honorable thing and wake up. But the other part of me was still too weary, too entangled with the grip of death to make the effort.
“I shall step outside for a moment to allow you the privacy,” said the older one.
“Thank you,” Felicia replied, her voice breathy with shyness.
Slow footsteps crossed the room with a plodding that confirmed this woman was old, probably on the heavy side, with arthritis in her joints. Once the door clicked closed, my senses awakened to other details of my surroundings: the scent of a dozen herbal remedies, the coolness of stone walls as well as the thickness of them that brought a solid silence to the room.
I could feel Felicia rise and realized she’d been sitting in a chair beside my bed which was a pallet of some sort, more comfortable than the floor but certainly not soft beneath my aching limbs.
The movement of the air as well as the slight sounds of her shuffling told me she leaned above me. If I opened my eyes, I’d likely see her hovering there, her green eyes filled with worry—worry about me and whether she was doing the right thing in following the nun’s advice.
I needed to tell her she didn’t have to do anything that would make her uncomfortable. That it wasn’t her job to rescue me. That she didn’t have to pretend to love me.
She dropped nearer until I felt her breath just above my face. Then it was above my mouth. And all thoughts ceased, save one.
I wanted her to kiss me.
For long moments, her breathing bathed me. It contained the fresh scent of mint. And warmth. Slowly the warmth spread from my chest to my arms and fingers. Then it moved from my heart to my legs and toes. Already, her nearness alone was giving me renewed strength. She wasn’t obligated to kiss me.
My longing for her kiss grew nonetheless, my lungs searing with the need. I thought I might perish, until her lips brushed mine, sweetly and softly like a gentle summer sprinkle after a hot day of work.
I basked for several heartbeats in the refreshment and life that poured through me. When she lessened the pressure and began to rise, I chased after her, finally reacting, finally coming to life. I captured her lips in a kiss that came from all the emotion I’d felt over the past days. The admiration, appreciation, and aye, even attraction. I couldn’t deny I cared deeply for this young woman.
We hadn’t known each other long, but what we’d gone through together in saving the princesses had somehow formed a bond I couldn’t deny. I’d broken all the rules of the king’s guard and my vow of celibacy. And I’d broken the boundaries of our classes. But something swelled inside me so deeply I couldn’t quell my need to respond and to communicate back my growing feelings.
I held her lips in a kiss that lasted only a few more seconds before she released the pressure and raised her head. Her beautiful eyes landed upon mine, making me realize I was fully conscious. Our gazes locked, and her eyes widened, giving me a glimpse into her soul, to the worry and concern she’d harbored there while I’d been delirious.
“You are awake,” she said softly, letting her lashes drop to veil the embarrassment that had moved in. “How do you feel?”
I wanted to reach for her hand and reassure her I coveted her attention. But I couldn’t make my hand move. “I’ve been unconscious for four days?” I managed, my voice hoarse.
“Your wound was severe.” She glanced at the lower half of my body covered with a blanket. “And you lost a great deal of blood.”
I flexed my calf, and fire shot through my leg in both directions. I couldn’t hold back a grimace at the pain. “Are we at St. Cuthbert’s?”
