Page 14 of A Balm of Healing
Warmth burned in his chest at the thought of Gweneth and the weeks they had spent together since her arrival. She was the sunlight in his life after a snowstorm that kept raging on and on. She’d brought laughter back into his life. Laughter and happiness and warmth.
But…
His legs demanded his attention, reminding him of his inadequacies and failures.
You are allowed to be happy again, his inner voice murmured inside his head.Don’t let Attleglade take any more from you.
The fear of trusting, of loving again struck him straight through the chest until it stole his very breath. How could he love Gweneth when he knew she wanted a career? And not a relationship?
He pushed the terrifying thoughts from his mind and wheeled himself into the kitchen, banging pots and pans as he started preparing one of Attleglade’s most common dishes—venison soup and tea bread. And while he cooked, his lips refused to stop tingling with Gweneth’s kiss.
“I am out of practice,” he scoffed to himself as he realized he’d simply froze up instead of returning her kiss. Perhaps if he got another chance, he wouldn’t fail as spectacularly the second go around.
***
Supper was quiet.
After Gweneth had finally braved leaving her room, she’d joined Emeric at the dining table, neither of them speaking a single word from where they sat across from one another, eyes fixed on their food.
The tips of her ears burned with embarrassment, even hours after the incident earlier. She searched her mind for something to say.Anything.But it came up blank except for the humiliation she’d brought upon herself by kissing her patient.
She couldn’t lie. She’d imagined kissing him several times. But in her fantasies, he’d never not responded, as if he’d wanted the kiss to end sooner rather than later. As if he were waiting politely for her to stop.
Forming any sort of attachments to her patients was always a line she refused to cross. Why, then, had she crossed it with Emeric? He hadn’t even wanted it. She’d read the room wrong, and now she found herself wallowing in humiliation.
“Nothing to say?” Emeric asked, shattering the silence with the hammer of his voice.
Her head darted up, her mouth falling open as she stared wide-eyed at him. Embarrassment burned hotter through her body. “I-I-I-u-u-uh—”
“About the food,” he said, nodding to her bowl. “You wanted to know what a Forest Fae dish tasted like. I’m sitting on the edge of my seat, terrified you hate it.”
“A-a-ah.” She cleared her throat, her hand darting to the brooch she had pinned at her neck once again, grasping it in her fingers. “It’s more flavorful than I anticipated. What spices are inside?”
He disarmed her entirely as he smiled in her direction and waved his spoon at her. “It’s an Attleglade secret. I’ll never tell.”
She wished she could laugh at his jest, but mortification continued to keep a firm hold on her tongue.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” Emeric said slowly as he stirred his soup around in his bowl. “Perhaps I should stop waiting for Nyana to come around.” He eyed her across the table. “Life has taught me to be cautious. To play it safe rather than take risks. Because when I take risks, I lose…so much.”
Her lips parted for a shaky breath when she suddenly wondered if they were still talking about Nyana.
He continued to gaze intently at her. “I don’t want to play it safe anymore, because I will never gain those things I could possibly lose in the first place.” Finally, he averted his attention to his food. “Tomorrow, I’m planning on visiting Nyana at her home. I hoped you might accompany me. I usually have Bastien to diffuse the air but…”
Relief flooded through her at the calm waters Emeric created in which to sail her boat. Perhaps things didn’t have to be awkward between them after all. “I would love to accompany you. I’m not sure I can outmatch Bastien’s levity, but I can try.”
“Levity.” He snorted and waved his spoon at her again. “That boy is the biggest tease and the most infuriating troublemaker. If you meet him one day, you’ll see. He shows his true colors immediately.”
After witnessing Emeric’s calm and collected demeanor, she couldn’t easily imagine his offspring with a personality completely opposite. “How so?”
The man leaned closer across the table, his food forgotten. “Let me tell you about the time he brought home a squirrel and broke nearly everything in the house.”
Over the next couple of hours, Emeric regaled her with stories of Bastien’s exploits and calmed the anxiety in her soul with laughter. Despite the exasperation in his tone, his love for his son was clear in the way he spoke about him. The man was a natural-born storyteller, and she hung onto his every word.
In return, she traded stories about her time as a healer, both the amusing stories and a few incredulous tales. Her story-weaving abilities paled in comparison, but she delighted in being able to make him laugh a couple of times, and she enjoyed the sight of his smile far too much.
She easily pictured herself in the future with Emeric by her side as they traveled from kingdom to kingdom, him selling his wares and her offering healing services.
But then she sobered at the thought. She loved her career. For years, she had shunned relationships, pushing them aside to focus on herself and her career goals and her love for her patients. The path had never felt so lonely.
