“Do ye still want to go the loch today?” he asked around a mouthful of bread.
Marissa nodded. “If ye feel all right. I wouldnae want ye sufferin’ in the hot sun.”
“I’ll be all right,” he grunted. “May just need to have a quick lie down after I eat for a bit—chase off the remaining pain. Then, we can head out.”
Marissa nodded just as Ayla turned to her. Ayle asked a question about her writing, and Arthur quickly tuned it all out, focusing entirely on his food.
He made quick work of eating. Then, when his stomach was satisfied, he took his leave.
Walking through the halls was painful, each step echoing in his head. But it wasn’t nearly as bad as when he had gone down to have his mid-day meal. Of that, he was certain.
As he finally walked into his chambers and collapsed on his bed, he let out a groan of relief.
“These headaches will be the death of me,” he muttered to the empty room. Or rather, to what he thought was the empty room.
“Ye cannae die just yet,” said a voice from the threshold.
Arthur started, his eyes flying open and landing on Marissa, who was standing in the doorway.
Under any other circumstances, Arthur was confident that he would have heard her following him. But, apparently, the thundering in his skull had drowned out the sound of her footsteps.
“What do ye mean?” he groaned, sinking back down onto the pillows.
Now that he was in his room and that the tea had had a little more time to take effect, the thundering was dulling even further.
He closed his eyes again, listening as Marissa crossed to him. The sound of water sloshing drew his attention, and he cracked an eye open.
She was standing at the side of the bed, a wooden bowl held between her small hands.
“I mean, ye cannae die before we wed,” she said, giving him a sardonic grin. “I cannae go back to livin’ at Castle McEwan after I’ve seen the grandeur of this place. Ye’ve spoiled me already. So ye have to wait until after our weddin’ so I can stay here.”
Arthur couldn’t help it. He chuckled in amusement before nodding toward the bowl. “What is that for?”
“Somethin’ else that will ease yer headache,” Marissa explained. She reached into the bowl, swirling her hand in it, and the sound of water sloshing filled the air once more. “Now, lie back.”
Arthur did as he was told, closing his eyes and sinking further into the pillows. A second later, the cloth she’d been wringing out was pressed to his head.
The water was cold, immediately easing the pressure in his skull. She dabbed at his forehead, and with each dab, the pain in his head subsided little by little.
What had once been a cacophonous hammering between his eyes had already subsided to a dull roar by the time he’d reached his rooms. But now, that roar faded.
The pressure that had made his ears feel like they were about to burst, and the sensitivity to light, all went away.
“Ye’re good at this,” Arthur murmured after a while, his eyes still closed as Marissa continued to dab at his forehead.
“Freya is a talented healer,” she explained, a hint of pride in her voice. “She taught me what she could.”
“I’ll have to give her me thanks.”
A silence descended on them again, but it was a comfortable one. Eventually, the pain between his eyes had ebbed almost entirely, and he finally felt up to looking at her.
When his gaze fell on her, she was watching him with an open expression, clearly studying him.
Her cheeks flushed when she caught him staring. Their eyes met and held, neither of them wanting to look away.
“Get some rest,” she said finally. “I ken neither of us got much sleep last night. The loch will still be there for us when ye wake up.”
Arthur nodded, exhaustion wearing on him now that his headache had subsided.
