The Emperor's Head

3. Waking Up Comfortably

Jun registered a comfortable warmth. It had been so long since he had felt such luxury. Jun only vaguely recognized the source of the coziness as the owner of the arm slung around his waist. The arm tightened when he snuggled into the body behind him, making Jun feel safe enough to drift back to sleep.

Sometime later, Jun approached consciousness. As he awoke, he felt more robust but still tired and cold. The vague memory of warmth pushed at his awareness, and its absence finally pulled him entirely out of his slumber. A fur blanket tickled his nose as he opened his eyes. Under its thick layer, he should not have felt cold. The contradiction distracted him, and he closed his eyes again.

"Can you sit?" Bolin's voice penetrated the last of his drowsiness, preventing Jun from falling back to sleep. His tone held a mixture of compassion and impatience, more the latter. He knelt next to Jun. His body was not quite touching, his presence both comforting and alarming.

"Yes, Master Bolin." Jun sat up quickly, only to fall back when his head began to swim. Bolin's strong arms prevented him from crashing to the ground. Jun relaxed, soothed by Bolin's support.

My head is muddled. This man is an assassin, not a nursemaid!

"Slowly," Bolin growled as Jun struggled to stand and ignore his bewildering response to his captor. His arms held firm to Jun's waist, not letting him fall as they rose. "You are only barely recovered. I do not want to deplete the stone."

Jun turned his head to answer with care, not wanting the dizziness to return, but shock kept him silenced. Bolin had removed his veil and changed into the white robes of a traveling monk. The youthful face he revealed was both beautiful and stern. Bolin's hair hung loosely around his long cheekbones and framed his square jaw. The dark eyes that had been so menacing seemed softer.

How can a killer be so beautiful? How can someone so strong be so young?

"You," Jun unconsciously touched the man's hair. As Jun brushed it off his shoulder, Bolin did not flinch away, "look different."

"Yes," Bolin agreed. "The clothing of an assassin would be more noticeable in the daylight than a monk."

"Right." Jun looked down at his dirty student uniform and frowned. His bladder reminded him again of the urgent sensation that aroused him from his sleep. He looked around the room for a place to relieve himself.

"There is a bathing chamber over there," Bolin prompted as if guessing his thoughts. He nodded to the back of the cave, where a door stood open. "I've put a robe in there for you. You are short for a monk, so I chose an acolyte's blue one for you."

That made sense, Jun was small for his age, and one had to be very strong to be a monk. Acolytes often traveled with monks for their protection.

A keen observer would notice the length of his hair in any costume. But as an acolyte, he could bind what the Prince had left him in a knot. Jun's eyes floated over to where Suifeng stood, eating from a bucket. His saddle sat beside him with its gruesome burden lying next to it. The bully should have received a hundred lashes for cutting Jun's hair but had only been scolded lightly by the Dean before tying the braid to his belt as a trophy.

A wicked smile crossed Jun's lips before he suppressed it. No one had been allowed better hair than the Prince.

Bolin has better hair and a more refined face. The Prince would have had a fit if he had met the handsome man who stole his head.

Shaking the disrespectful thoughts from his head, Jun tried to walk but found he lacked the strength to take more than a few steps. He leaned on the shelf beside the rock he had slept on and wondered how he would bathe himself.