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The chirping of birds and the sigh of a breeze slowly brought Shumei out of sleep. Her injured shoulder was warm and stiff, and her stomach growled for the mouthwatering scent of cooked eggs wafting to her nose, but she otherwise felt fine.
For a blissful moment, she watched the play of shadows on the wall, cast by the swaying branches of trees under a full sun. She was both loath and eager to get out of bed. There were many things to be done, starting with Vallen’s cure. She also had to worry about Majo, the village leaders, Akiji, and, oh yes, the demon raids on human villages and cities after centuries of peace.
Oka’s laugh echoed faintly and she turned her head on the pillow, taking in a deep breath. Then her bladder made its need known, so she sat up. A few small throbs of pain started up in her shoulder, but they were minor and not a sign of anything wrong. She was lucky her wound hadn’t become infected, what with their hasty retreat from the village and their half-day journey to this place.
As she stood, she found herself face-to-face with the mirror above the dressing table next to the bed. Her bed-tousled hair was rather silly, but her skin was clear and fine that morning, most likely due to the long night of sleep she’d enjoyed despite her injury—twelve hours’ worth, if the light of day was any indication.
She would have to get her bandage changed again before breakfast, but first came a quick visit to the room with the mysterious handle. As she passed by the sitting room, she looked in to see Vallen entertaining Oka with his story of falling from a house in Kito to be left dangling naked in the breeze.
Vallen had dressed in all black again, though he also wore a leather vest cinched snugly to the contours of his upper body. His pants were leather rather than cloth, and they clung to his narrow hips like a second skin. Oka also wore new clothes obviously meant for a nobleman’s child. They were Vallen’s house colors, and finely stitched saplings adorned the shirt’s hem.
“How did you get down?” Oka asked.
“Thankfully, only a shocked old man was awake to see my predicament,” Vallen said. “In the dark of night under trees, he probably thought I was a blondie with my light-colored hair, so he kindly unknotted the end of the rope holding me to the balcony of the house, and I fell the last few feet to the ground.”
“This must be a favorite memory of yours for you to share something so embarrassing,” she said.
“Good morning,” Oka said, grinning.
Vallen turned to her. She had taken time to comb some sense into her hair with her fingers but was certain she still looked bedraggled. Even so, judging by the spread of warmth low in her belly, she knew his delicious-looking leather pants were getting tighter.
“The old man’s reaction stuck with me. He was far more flustered than I was,” Vallen replied, smiling. “I was simply grateful for the assistance.” He and Oka had finished eating, but a plate of eggs, a few slices of meat, and some freshly made rice waited for her under a glass lid. “How do you feel?” he asked as he stood, medicine bag in his hand. “I checked on you a few times, but you never seemed to be in pain.”
“My shoulder aches a bit, but I don’t feel feverish. I think I’d prefer to change my bandage before eating,” she decided, touching her shoulder and feeling minimal pain from the pressure. It was like touching a bruise several days old.
“Let us change your bandage in the bedroom,” Vallen said, reaching for her elbow.
“Yes, I need only a moment,” she said, pointing shyly at the water closet nearby.
“I’ll wait for you there, then.”
The water closet was clean and well designed—a much more civilized solution than leaves and a private spot in the woods. After completing her business, she eagerly pulled the handle and watched with fascination as the system of pipes flushed everything away. She wondered if magic made it work.
Oka was gone by the time she walked past the sitting room, probably off to explore the woods again. She felt a strange need to walk to the porch and call his name to tell him not to wander too far, but she resisted the urge, knowing they were relatively safe within the estate’s walls.
Coming upon her bedroom again, she looked in to see Vallen sitting on the edge of the bed with his bare feet on the steps, a bandage draped over his thigh and a nearly completed mesh of medicines in the mortar he held in his hands. He raised his head.
“Were you as amazed at the handle as Oka was? He couldn’t stop talking about it when we first started breakfast,” he said, chuckling. She smiled and walked to the bed.
“You’re dressed rather handsomely today,” she said, sitting next to him.
“I could tell you liked it,” he murmured with a lopsided smile, setting the mortar on the first step. He leaned toward her. His fingers swept up her thighs, curved around her hips, and slid sensually to her lower back. He deftly loosened her belt, and her heart skipped in reaction.
“Now, now,” he said with a small shudder. “I can’t control myself if you get worked up too.”
“I can’t help myself,” she whispered. Her sex was already warm and heavy as her dress slipped down her arms, revealing the bandage wrapped tightly around her shoulder. She kept enough fabric over her breasts to avoid teasing Vallen too much, but hiding herself seemed to inflame his lusts even more.
“I don’t want to tear out any of your stitches,” he said hoarsely, adjusting his position to lessen the pressure on the erection ridging his pants. “I’d never forgive myself.” He unwound her old bandage and tenderly peeled the last layer from her shoulder. She looked down at her wound and felt a great wash of relief. It was healing remarkably well.
“Your shoulder feels warm, right?” he asked, dipping a cloth into a basin of water.
“Yes, why?” she asked, enjoying the cool touch of his hands on her shoulder.
“That’s your magic helping.” He wiped away dried bits of salve. “In the days of the Dark Court, when nobles and their house soldiers battled the minions of the Damned One, even those with nearly fatal wounds could make a full recovery after only a few weeks’ rest. Those with more minor wounds, like yours, could heal in a matter of days.”
“Really? I’ll be well in only a couple days?”