“Dill, I’m uncomfortable,” I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest. The hair on my arms stood straight up. Nervous about what he thought as he stared at my back, covered only in my bloody undergarment, I bit my lip. “I don’t like this.”
He huffed, “Then you’re going to like it less when I lift your undergarment up. I have to get at that cut.” He bunched it up over my shoulders carefully; I twitched.
The blood once warm and flowing had gone stiff and dark with time and cold.
“You’re going to have to wash your dress,” Armadillo said, swabbing at my cut. The terrible sting worsened with each swipe of the wet towel; I flinched each time.
“I know,” I sighed, wincing. “Should you be using soap? I have so- Ow! I have some in my bag. Of course, Hans gave it to me, so who knows what’s in it.”
He inhaled sharply, leaning close to cleanse the cut. “I do not want to see what another infection would do to you, but do you want to risk falling more in love with me if we use it?” He teased, rummaging in my bag for the bar of soap.
“Oh, ha. You’re hilarious. Just use the damn soap.” I cringed as he rubbed the soapy towel into my cut. “Thanks for doing this. I appreciate it.” I shivered.
“What are objects of affection for?” He shrugged. “Once we’re in Dunver, I’m going to have my cousin Abby look at this. She’s studying medicine…or perhaps it’s trees. I can’t remember. Either way, someone other than me needs to look at this.” He muddled around in his own bag before he pulled out a roll of cloth. “Arms up.”
“Do you always carry gauze on you?” I raised my elbows to shoulder level.
He muttered good-naturedly, “I do when I travel with someone who has a knack for getting hurt.” He paused. “You never explained why Varick broke your foot. He mentioned Tristan, but…I wanted to hear the rest.” He sounded nervous.
“It was nothing, Dill. Tristan saw Lister awake and he…well, he kind of…”
He swathed the cloth around my body several times before ripping it and sealing the wrappings with a pin. He stated flatly, “Jenny, don’t be coy. Just say he grabbed your ass and let’s be done with it, yes?” He tapped on my back gently, patting down the gauze.
“You do not need to be so vulgar about it.” I righted my dress, looping my arms into my sleeves and adjusting it over my shoulders. “Should I wait to wash this?”
“That depends how much you like the blood stained look.”
Giggling, I rolled my eyes. “I hear that it’s the latest fashion in Borrone. No wealthy woman is without at least one.” He’s so easy to joke with, I thought.
“Borrone, you say! Then you simply must wait until we get to at least Eirodin before you even think of washing it.” He grinned broadly. Once he stood, he wiped the dirt off his trousers. “Are you ready? The City of Thieves awaits.”
Clutching a tree branch to pull myself up without pressuring my foot, I wondered, “You wouldn’t happen to know how far, would you?” My back and foot both ached.
“It’s going to be a little while. Can you walk on your own?” He wondered.
Longing for the feel of his skin against mine, but fighting my desire for him, I shook my head. “I’ll be okay,” I assured him. For a short while, I hobbled behind. When I stepped onto my broken foot, I lost my balance and tumbled to the ground. As I rolled over onto my back, dirt pasted itself onto my blood soaked dress. “Ouch.”
“Damn it, Jenny. If you needed my help, why didn’t you just say so? I had assumed that you’d be craving it by now. I guess I was wrong.” He tugged on my wrists to help me stand. Without asking my permission, he pulled my arm across his shoulders.
YOU ARE READING
Sleepwalker
FantasyBook one. I'd spent my entire life without a mother. But, when professors come to my father's inn, a cloaked figure known only as Sleepwalker begins to torment me with thoughts of her. When these dreams become too malicious, my father sends me off t...
