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“Boaz certainly thinks so.”

Atticus groans. “Do not let him in here tonight. I cannot deal with his reprimands.”

Kazimir chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ve already received my tongue-lashing. I think he is too busy hunting for this mysterious caster and legionary to dole out more scolding.”

Atticus’s smile fades as a troubled look takes over. What does he remember? What does he think of his mysterious healer?

I wring out the soiled cloth. It’s stained pink. “You know, a bath would be easier to wash all this blood off.”

“If only I could get up.” Atticus lifts his arm and then lets it flop back to the mattress as if to prove his point. “I did not feel this weak after the last merth arrow I took. This one is different.”

More lethal, by the looks of the new silver scar next to the old one.

“You will be up and ready by the morning.” Kazimir arches a brow at me as if to say “You know what he needs” before swiftly moving for the door. “Your Highness.”

A king ready for battle in mere hours may be wishful thinking. Atticus looks seconds from drifting into unconsciousness.

The fire crackles and the water sluices in the otherwise silent chamber as I quietly work. Atticus’s thoughts seem elsewhere.

I nearly lost him tonight.

Islor almost lost its king.

If not for Romeria, the very princess he has placed a bounty and execution order on.

Corrin’s warning screams in my conscience, even as I gather the nerve to ask, “I heard this caster healed you outside the tavern. It sounds like she saved your life.”

It’s a moment before he sighs. “Yes, I’ve heard the same. Are you nearly done?”

He doesn’t want to talk about it.

“I think that was the last of the blood.” I cast aside the filthy towel for the servants to collect later.

“Good. I would not want to soil this.” His gaze rolls over my outfit.

Neither would I, given it’s not mine. Atticus is still half-dressed, and I don’t think I could get his breeches off on my own without a tug-of-war. They can’t be clean.

Heat floods my body in a rush as I slip off the robe and hang it on a hook on the bottom post of the bed, knowing what I must do.

“When I ordered you to come to my rooms tonight, this is not what I had in mind.” He watches me round the bed to the other side.

“No, I suppose not.” My hands tremble as I slip one strap of the gown off, and then the other, letting the material tumble to the floor.

“Fates.” He stares at my bare curves. “Forget the merth arrow. I think having you next to me like this and not being able to enjoy it is what will kill me.”

My cheeks flush as I slip into bed, shimmying over until I’m lying next to him. “Come. You need to heal.”

With a groan, he rolls me, his skin searing hot as his lips find mine. The kiss is soft and lacks its usual intensity, but I enjoy it all the same.

“Thank you for being here. For being willing.” His forehead presses against mine. “I have always made a point of hiding vulnerability from my tributaries, but with you, I have no desire to hide anything.”

“There’s no need to.” I enjoy seeing this side of him as much as the kingly version, save for the near-lethal injury.

“I promise, later, when I am able, I will not simply take from you. I will give you everything.”

I don’t truly understand what that means, but if it’s anything like the feel of his lips, I am sure I’ll enjoy it. I tip my head back, exposing my neck to him. The fear of that acute pain is gone, replaced by heady anticipation. I trust him not to hurt me.

His mouth finds my tender skin. Moments later I feel a sharp prick, but the sting fades almost instantly. I let my body sink into the mattress as I give Atticus what he desperately needs.

It’s still dark when I stir.

Suri.

I bolt up in bed and swing my legs over the edge. And then I remember that I already fed her and I’m with Atticus in his chamber.

Cool air brushes across my naked skin. The terrace doors are thrown open, and Atticus stands outside under the moonlight. He must have gotten up to remove his breeches and boots because he wears nothing as he peers out over his lands.

I admire a shadowy view of his beautiful and strong form for a moment before I collect my robe and join him outside. “Feeling better?”

He inhales sharply. “You startled me.”

“I didn’t mean to.” I didn’t think that was possible for his kind, but he must be deep in thought. I hug the robe as I step out, fighting the urge to shiver. The stone is cold on my feet. “I’m glad to see you up.”

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