Lady Eilean

Chapter 45

It was a struggle to open my eyes. I fought against the heavy pull of sleep that held my body under strong arrest. Sleep was comfort, but it was not oblivion. I thrashed and felt clammy discomfort prickle across my skin. The pillow cradled my head, the angle a bit too sharp. The blanket was too hot, but when I kicked it off I froze. Nearby someone breathed, the press and suck of their steady breath washed across my neck.

I opened my eyes. An exhaustion I had never known filled my body with lead. A dull, lingering ache lived in my chest, the muscles around my ribs sore. I felt them with every inhale.

The room, my room, was lit by dozens of candles. A fire roared in the grate. The curtains were closed tight, a fine seam of light bleeding in around the edges. Gauging by the color of the light and the hushed, shuffling sounds of the castle, I determined it was early morning. The room should have been dark. The candles should have been extinguished. There should only be a lifeless pile of coals in the fireplace.

I didn't understand. I didn't care. I was too tired.

A weight was uncomfortable on my stomach. Alex's arm draped across my torso. His body wrapped around mine. It was his breath on my neck.

Though my mind was foggy, this closeness made me smile. It reassured something in me; I didn't know what. I allowed myself to be dragged back into the nothingness of sleep.

The next time I woke up, the curtains were open, and the room was full of light. Alex was gone, but in his place was Wallis, sitting beside me on the bed reading a book with a labored scowl.

I still couldn't move. I was an empty vessel.

"Hi, sleepy aunty," Wallis said with a wide grin.

"Hi, baby."

"Innis gave me this to read. She said it came from uncle Calum's library."

I smiled at her, my mouth protesting the stretch. "Is it good?"

"I think so. The queen is trying to bring her sister back from the dead with black salt." Wallis went back to her story, a gleam in her eyes.

Amusement rippled through me. Only Calum would consider that a suitable story for a child. Forcing myself out of bed, I concentrated all my might on sitting upright and swinging my legs off the mattress. I shuddered when my bare feet touched the cold floor. As quickly as I could, fighting the muscles that refused to support my weight, I rang for the servants. I made my way back to the bed and fell asleep yet again.

I woke when I heard soft shuffling and the hiss of whispers. Opening my eyes, I saw maids going about their work in the rooms. Stoking the fire, arranging a tray of food, tidying as best they could around their sleeping mistress.

Alex was back, sitting at a makeshift desk he had dragged to the side of the bed. A worried expression lined his face as he studied me. Our eyes met and held for a long moment. The memory of my scene in the kitchen flooded me. I couldn't stand to look at him and remember it, so I laid back against the pillows and closed my eyes.

"Morning," I croaked, my throat raw.

There was the sound of movement, the rustle of skirts, the slip of light footsteps. The opening and closing of the door.

Then a command. "Eilean, look at me." Alex's voice was clear and gentle.

I opened my eyes and found him bent over me. He sighed with relief. "It's not morning, it's nearly dinner time," he said, standing and collecting a tray of food from the desk. He settled it on my lap. "Sit up."

I did so, fighting the weakness in my bones. Looking down at the bowl of clear soup and pot of tea before me, I wasn't sure if the effort had been worth it. I picked up a plain roll and nibbled on it. A kind of desperation within me demanded that I explain myself, clear the air, and beg his forgiveness.