Kai huffed a laugh, then absently brushed his lips over the crown of her head— his chest went taut beneath her. She might have tensed, too, if sickness hadn’t turned her muscles to the consistency of boiled cabbage. Had she been able to open her eyes again, she’d have looked up at him, caught whatever expression he wore in that frozen moment.
She’d know if she looked at him.
Had he meant to kiss her like that?
The thought was dim and distant beyond her growing exhaustion, but it hung there all the same. Until Kai laughed again, out loud this time, as though nothing had happened.
“I’m not entirely certain merrowcanbecome seasick. We’re born to the waters.”
A door creaked, and Adeline felt the brush of the frame against her skirts as they backed into a cool, dark room. Then she was being lowered and released, a too-soft mattress swallowing her whole; her body curled in on itself desperately while she tried to breathe through the next suffocating wave of sickness.
Kai’s weight shifted the mattress at her back before his hand came to rest on the clammy skin of her forehead, sweeping her curls from her brow. A soft, sighing sound escaped her—one she absolutely would not have made for herpossibly-former-loverif she’d had any control over herself whatsoever.
Kai pulled his hand back.
“I–ah—”
Flustered. Goddess, how she used to enjoy a flustered Kai. Might still, if his blushing and weighted gazes didn’t stir an all-consuming guilt in her chest, a guilt so tangled and layered she could barely understand it.
Not that she could understand much of anything right now, with her organs stirring and swaying within her and her head beginning to pound.
Kai cleared his throat.
“Shall I keep going or do you want me to go and get—”
“Stay,” she said. The guilt that should have followed was once more numbed by nausea and exhaustion. “Please. Feels nice.”
Kai didn’t answer, but his hand resumed stroking at her hair and kept at it even as she drifted in and out of a fitful half-asleep.
It was hard to say how long had passed by the time the door creaked open, and Kai’s hand finally paused on her brow.Adeline surfaced vaguely from the depths of unconsciousness to hear Ceri murmuring to him, something she couldn’t hear.
“I can do it,” he said softly.
Silence.
Kai’s voice turned firm. “I can do it, Ceriwyn.”
Another silence passed, this one weighted enough that Adeline had to pry an eye open, curiosity overcoming her exhaustion for just a moment. Ceri stood in the shadowed doorway, cradling a tin mug, her lips tugged down in a worried curve as she held her brother’s eye. She must have felt Adeline’s half-lidded stare, for she turned slightly, forced a brief smile, then handed the mug to Kai and left without another word.
“Do you think you can sit up?”
Adeline couldn’t move her head to shake it; the small cabin was already spinning, and she desperately needed to close her eyes again. She groaned a wordless complaint into the covers, but Kai seemed to understand.
“I’m going to lean you against me, alright? Just for a moment. Just so you can drink, and then you’ll sleep as long as you need. Ready?”
She was not, but Kai was gentle as he pulled her up and against him, coaxing her to lean her back to his chest. Her head lolled against his shoulder, and for the first time since they’d boarded the ship, she caught a shadowed glimpse of his face as he turned to reach for her tea. A weak glow lit him in profile; candlelight, perhaps. It fluttered along the strong lines of his face, so familiar in both their beauty and their tension. His dark brow was creased, as it so often was, his jaw set so the angles seemed sharper than ever, even beneath days of thick, black stubble.
He turned his head, and that stubble scratched gently at her brow; that was familiar, too. The feel of his skin on hers, how he’d wake her with his coarse chin and soft mouth pressed into her neck, rough and gentle all at once. Amazingly, a weak blush crept into her cheeks at the thought—though it hardly registered when she was already so hot and flushed all over, her stomach still swirling ominously.
“Small sips, alright? You’ll want to keep this down.”
Kai supported her head with his free hand, fingers combing through her curls to spread at the base of her skull. He pressed the tin rim to her lips, and she drank.
“Ugh.” She winced between sips; the tea was bitter and earthy, with barely enough heat to dull the taste. “S’pose a drop of honey would be a tall order?”
He snorted. “I’m glad you’re well enough to make jokes.”
The last of the bitter liquid slid down her throat, and she let her head fall back again, just for a moment.
