I stared at her. Then I whispered, “Oh, all right.”

The healer was at the table, pouring water and tapping some white powder into it from a folded piece of paper. Then she set that aside, picked up a squat, bulbous bottle and tapped some other powder into the cup. Then she swirled the cup in her hand as she brought it to me.

Again, she didn’t make it. Lahn was there, taking the cup, more gently this time, sitting beside me, doing the hand around my neck lifting thing again and he held the cup to my lips, removing it at intervals for me to swallow, then back and again until I drank it all.

The liquid was bitter and didn’t taste good at all but I forced it down.

“Shahsha, Lahn,” I whispered when he took the cup away for good and lowered me back to the pillows.

“Nahrahka, kah Lahnahsahna,” Lahn whispered back and my eyes slid to Diandra.

“What did she give me?” I asked.

“A sleeping draft mixed with something to dull the pain. It’s from nature, my dear, not witchcraft. I’ve had it before. It works fast and it’s safe. I promise.”

I nodded and clutched the hides around me in an effort to control the shaking.

Lahn handed the glass to the healer and barked more orders. The man with Diandra, who I was assuming was her husband, Seerim, put his arm around her and guided her away after she and I exchanged nods. My girls drifted out after I gave them reassuring smiles. The healer said a few words to Lahn, left the squat, green, corked bottle filled with white powder on the table, she grabbed her trunk and hurried out.

Lahn took his hides off and slid under the sheet at the other side of the bed. Moving toward me, he turned me to him and gathered my still shaking body in his arms.

I pressed my hands to his chest and whispered, “I’ll be all right, Lahn. I’ll be okay.”

“Yes, okay, Circe,” he agreed on a light squeeze.

I nodded my head against the pillows. “Yes, honey, okay.”

“Honey,” he repeated on another squeeze.

I sighed.

Okay, Lahn could be a dick, a big one, but when you were sick, he didn’t like that and he didn’t fuck around in finding a way to make you better.

Shit.

About five minutes later, my lids got heavy and the quaking turned to mild tremors.

“Okay, Circe, good,” Lahn muttered, drawing me nearer.

I forced my eyes open, tipped my head back, saw his bearded chin was dipped down and his painted eyes were on my face.

“Yes, baby, good,” I mumbled back and fell asleep cradled in a warrior king’s strong arms.

Chapter Eleven

Sweet

“Kah Circe,” I heard Lahn call softly, my eyes drifted open and I saw him looming over me, one arm across my body, hand in the bed, his torso close, his eyes on mine.

“Hey,” I whispered and one side of his mouth twitched.

“Hey,” he replied then he straightened, his hand in the bed slid around my neck and he lifted me up as his other hand came toward me, carrying a cup. He put it to my lips and ordered quietly,

“Gingoo, Lahnahsahna.”

I drank the bitter liquid and knew he’d prepared another dose of medicine.

Yeah, damn. He could be sweet.

When I was done, he took the cup away, set it on the ground by the bed and came back to me. His eyes roamed my face and his hand smoothed my hair back, his fingers sifting through it as he did. It felt nice, him doing that, really nice.

Oh shit, yeah. He could be sweet.

And that sucked.

“You know what sucks?” I whispered to him, doing it because I knew he would have no clue as to a word I was saying. “It sucks that you can be sweet and when you’re sweet you’re really sweet.

That sucks.”

He didn’t stop tenderly stroking my hair as I spoke but his eyes dropped to my mouth and when I was done, they came back to mine.

Then my heart squeezed when he whispered back, “I don’t understand you, baby.”

There it was again. Sweet.

I lifted a hand and placed it on his chest. He looked down at it but his eyes came back to mine when I spoke.

“Out there, King Lahn is a fierce warrior but in here, my Lahn…

kah Lahn is sweet.”

His eyes changed, intensity shifting in when he murmured,

“Fierce warrior, sweet.”

I grinned at him. “You’ve sort of got it.”

“Fierce warrior, sweet,” he muttered again.

“Yes,” I replied and his hand came up to mine at his chest, his long fingers curling around, swallowing mine when they did and then they held tight, keeping our hands at his chest.

“Anla na neesoo, anka ta linay et na lapay sahka. Suh Tunak me tunoo et kah Circe me sahka,”* he declared and I laughed softly.

Then I said just as softly, “I don’t understand you, baby.”

He shook his head, his lips tipped up then he bent close. “Neesoo, kah Lahnahsahna.”

“Neesoo?” I asked and he didn’t move back but his hand stroking my hair moved to my face where he gently touched each eyelid with a fingertip, my eyes blinking with each touch, then his fingertips glided down my cheekbone.