Courtesans - English version

43 Melting

Zevran awoke to someone nudging his shoulder. Or rather, he woke to someone nudging his shoulder for the second time. This time, however, he nearly jolted upright, lifting his head and upper body before sighing and settling back onto the couch in the middle of the living room. He kept his eyes shut for a moment, took a deep breath, then sat up with his eyes still closed, rubbing his head as he leaned on his spread knees.

"How is she?"

"Still asleep. She'll stay that way for a while. Let her rest."

"I want to see her."

"I said, let her rest."

Zevran glanced at Gaelin standing above him out of the corner of his eye. Finally, he sighed in resignation, rubbing his eyes for a long moment. After dragging his fingers down his tired face, he glanced at the small plate the woman held, then back up at her.

With a cold motion, Gaelin placed the plate on the table beside the couch, the bottom clinked loudly on the wood. It held a sliced apple, a portion of hardened cornmeal mush, and a few slices of vegetable drizzled with balsamic vinegar.

"Eat."

After a moment of hesitation, Zevran picked up the plate, sniffed it but didn't touch the food, and cast a suspicious glance at her.

"Do you think I'm poisoning you?"

He shook his head. "No, not for a moment. But now that you mention it..."

Gaelin huffed, snatched the plate back from him, tossed it back on the table, and turned away. "Fine, then don't eat! But go and bath! You're filthy, and you stink!" She pointed toward the bathroom and left him there.

Zevran watched her out of the corner of his eye, then, as soon as she was gone, pulled the small plate between his knees and stuffed an entire slice of apple into his mouth just for the principle of it. After he finished eating, he walked to the room Gaelin had indicated. A tub of warm water was waiting, steam rising from it.

He began to undress, midway through unbuttoning his shirt when Gaelin appeared in the doorway again. She stood by the doorframe, arms crossed, giving him a stern once-over as though inspecting goods at a market.

He raised an eyebrow back at her, just on the verge of saying something witty, when she marched over and plunked a white block on the edge of the tub.

"There. Soap. Hand me your clothes; I'll wash them."

Zevran blinked at her, watching as she slipped behind him, rummaging through bathroom chests and pulling out a shirt and a pair of trousers from somewhere.

"They're clean. They were my husband's."

She gave him a sizing look.

"You're about the same build."

Gaelin turned away and continued sorting things. Zevran paused for a moment, but as she didn't seem in any hurry to leave, he calmly stripped down entirely and sank gratefully into the water. Zevran had never made a fuss over nudity, and besides, Gaelin didn't seem particularly interested.

The woman stuffed part of Zevran's clothes into a washbasin, grating some soap over them.

Neither of them spoke for a while, the only sounds the harsh scraping of the soap block on the grater and the quiet splashing of water in the tub.

"Did you at least love her?"

Zevran cleared his throat.

"Er... I did like your daughter. I think she liked me too. She was cheerful, laughed a lot."