Page 127 of Frost and Death
I gulp down the medicine, shaking away yetanotherintrusive thought of Jerrick, praying to the Makers the herbs will take effect soon. “Th-Thank you.” I smile softly.
But Jerrick’s jaw works for a few beats before he asks another question. “How long do we have to wait?”
“It’s hard to say. I am usually better about taking medicine proactively, but I’ve been preoccupied.”
His entire face falls at my admission, his dimple vanishing and eyes turning distant. “I am to blame for that.”
“No, well—yes and no,” I amend.
Jerrick’s head drops, his warmth retreating.
I rush to explain, “I don’t blame you for my stress. It’s everything we are trying to do and accomplish for your curse, for the ball, for the kingdoms, and for my powers. I know we have not tackled everything, but managing it all can be a lot.”
Our eyes meet, and he offers me a solemn nod.
It feels like he is withdrawing more, despite me still resting on his knee. I push through my pain and grab his hand.
His gaze flicks to it, and I squeeze it once, rubbing small circles as he has done for me. “I don’t blame you,” I repeat in reassurance.
His stern and distraught features lighten, his thumb rubbing my hand gently. “You should,” he says, low and quiet.
I shake my head adamantly. “I don’t.”
I try to voice that I don’t blame him for my family, for my trauma, but the rest of my words run dry in my aching throat, the only two that really matter lingering between us.
He looks me over, our hands still rubbing against each other. Being the object of his attention has always made me flush, but now I am molten.
I swallow carefully, and his eyes track the movement.
“May I try something?” Jerrick asks.
Caution prickles up the length of my spine, unknowing where he is going with this.
Ireallyhope he isn’t trying to pick me up. I don’t even want to think about how mortified I was when Niko did that during my last cycle.
But at least Jerrick is asking.
“Wh-What do you mean?” I ask.
“May I use my gifts on you?”
I tense, the past occurrences of him using his abilities on me flashing in my mind. But he wants to help me, and he is asking for permission.
Hesitation ebbs the longer he stares, waiting for my response.
“H-How do you intend to—”
“You said you have cramps. If I heat your blood, it will increase your blood flow, and I could—” He stops when my facefalls. “You don’t have to say yes. I’m only offering a suggestion that could help.”
“I wish you did that the last time this happened,” I blurt.
Recollection draws a chuckle from him as he quirks a brow. “Who is to say I didn’t?”
Surprise widens my eyes. I drift to the last time I was on my cycle, remembering the pain—the fainting.
“Did you use your power on me when I fainted?” I ask. “At the ball in Axidoria?”
Jerrick’s teasing shifts into regret. “Yes,” he admits quietly.
