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“I don’t need aknife.A spoon will do. But I refuse to eat like an animal out of a trough any longer. And I want to ride Glory one more time before . . . the end. And,” I rush to think of more. “And maybe eat some kind of cake.” I take a deep breath and cross my arms over my breasts under the water before I dare face him again.
He rubs a wet hand across his beard as if in thought, then says, “Fine.”
“Pardon?” I whisper, because there’s no way I’ve heard him correctly.
“I said fine. You can have those things if you help me with the letter . . . first.”
My elation withers.“I’mnot a fool either,” I tell him. “After all my demands have been met, we’ll talk. Until then, you can confer with your dead scholar through the Mother.”
He makes a valiant effort to keep a straight face, but in the end, he can’t smother a soft chuckle.
I should probably keep my next comment to myself, but somehow it comes out anyway. “How is it possible that you can’t read that letter for yourself? You have, orhad, a scholar, but he didn’t teach the deve’s son to read?”
He’s suddenly wary. “It is forbidden.”
“Forbidden?” I can’t hide my shock. “Why on earth?”
“By order of the First Deve, Kharon . . . so we are not polluted by the ideas of D’heilar.”
“But the letter was addressed to him. You can’t tell me he would trust someone to interpret the information for him.” I scoff with disgust. “Typical autocrat, wanting to control the information so he can fit it to his own narrative.”
His heavy brows draw together.
“He controls what you see and hear,” I explain. “So he can convince you to do as he wishes.”
His mien grows darker until he starts to forcefully wade to the edge of the pool. “Come. You’re warm enough.”
“You’re upset?”
“I said get out of the water. We’re wasting time and yourneedsare many.”
Watching him pull his pants over his powerful thighs, I can’t resist taunting him a bit. “You see how that works? I control the information and you do as I want.”
The hard glare he turns on me sends an unexpected pulse of want right to my core.What . . ? Shouldn’t it scare me?Except I no longer believe he would hurt me, so I’m not afraid . . . a truth that channels itself into even more heat.
“I could teach you, you know?” I blurt, not wanting to consider my reaction too closely. “To read and write. That way you wouldn’t have to depend on anyone.”
He straightens from collecting his shirt, a mixture of suspicion and alarm on his face. But he’s clearly considering it. Slowly, he arranges the shirt as if to pull it on over his head.
“No!” I say, wading forward to step from the pool. “That’s mine.” If he thinks I’ll put that same, three-day-old shirt on again, he’s got another thing coming.
He doesn’t hand the shirt over right away, but that’s fine, because the view of the man’s torso is magnificent. Mother save me, but I can’t dislodge my gaze from the ridges on his abdomen that lead down . . .
“Do you think it’s possible?”
My eyes snap up guiltily. “What?”
“For me to learn to read,” he says, exasperated now, holding the shirt out to me.
Right.I take it, ignoring the delicious scent of him on the fabric as I put it on. “Anyone can learn,” I tell him, adjusting the drawstring around the neck before I squeeze the water from my hair.
Mulling over my announcement, he shrugs on his vest, the thick leather creaking as he tightens the buckles. When he shoves his feet into his boots, I get a sense of having lived this scenario before.Is this to be our new routine? I come close to death and he revives me here in the baths?
As he scoops me up and we head back, I hope not.
“Are you certain?”
“Pardon?” I try to curl more tightly into his chest to preserve the warmth of the hot springs.
