Beautiful Torment *Book One of the Beautiful series*

22) Hot Springs

Lucy groaned.

Her eyelids felt unnaturally heavy when she tried to peel them open. A square of blinding light made her snap her head to the side into whatever cloth surface she was resting on, before she squeezed them closed again to shield them from the assault. Fingers appeared in her hair, brushing it back from her face. From the sparks that erupted on contact, she knew it was the prince. The comforting murmur of him trying to speak to her was dulled by whatever was causing her grogginess.

Slowly turning her head and opening her eyes a little bit at a time, she found herself staring up at Alexander from his lap. She buried her face into his cloak, which he had carefully balled up and placed under her head.

"Quit your wiggling woman," he scolded her as she tried to sit up. "You need rest." With a firm hand flat on her collarbone, he kept her laying across the bench of the carriage.

She could not stop the deep blush that covered her face and down her neck, flushing through her.

"Alexander, this is inappropriate," she protested, but the thought that his member was so close to her face was enough to make her damp with need.

He was amused by her bashfulness and in turn smiled slowly, "Says the woman who attacked me last night."

The memory of their shared kiss sparked to life behind her eyes and it only served to deepen her blush.

"A mere kiss, and an accident at that. I was delirious from the events of the evening. Not myself at all."

She did not meet his eyes when she said it, unable to bring herself to when telling such a complete and utter lie. Though something had come over her when she leapt upon him, like a force greater than herself, it was no accident.

He remained silent at her response and when she peeked over at him he was staring off, using his finger to push back the little curtain over the carriage window.

Something dark lived in his expression.

"Will not be much longer now," he murmured so quietly she was not sure if he was talking to her or himself.

Shifting, she tried to sit up again and this time he let her without protest. Her head swam and ached in time with her thigh. The pain was not quite unbearable, but it left her feeling weak and feverish.

"Where are we going?" She managed to ask, gritting her teeth against the nausea that came once upright.

"Kirth," he said simply. "We are riding through the mists now."

Lucy's breath whistled through her teeth as she sucked it in, shooting him a quick look that made her head spin from the sudden movement. "You are bringing me to the Cursed Lands?"

She gave him an accusatory look if only to hide the fear that pulsed through her body, making her heart stutter and palms sweat. She had heard of this place from men stopping through Granston House. Many who complained about 'taking the long way 'round Kirth' in an attempt to avoid the elven ruins where ghosts roamed, possessing anyone who dare set foot upon their ravaged homeland.

In her head she pictured a dark, wasted terrain with trees that would not bud and grass that would not grow. A gray, sunless sky overhead and ash coating everything in sight. That is how one traveler had described it to her when she was little more than nine winters old. She had had nightmares for weeks.

The carriage came to a gradual stop and Lucy stiffened, looking desperately towards the prince for the answer he had not yet given. After staring at her for a long moment, he finally said, "The mists shield the truth. You have nothing to be afraid of, Lucy. These lands are not cursed, but having people believe they are keeps them away which will make our journey all the more safe."