But even as I tell myself I do not care to share his company, all too often I catch myself longing for it with a desperation that terrifies me. My mind is trapped in a perpetual spiral of anticipation, my senses heightened to a new sort of awareness each time I find myself in his presence.
Now that I know how he tastes, now that I know the devouring heat of his lips, now that I know how it feels to fit every curve of my body against the hard planes of his chest…
I cannotunknow it.
I cannot forget it.
Even if he wishes to.
On the thirdday after my return, I sit on a long neglected garden bed in the enclosed courtyard at the rear of Carys’s shop, pulling weeds and planting the cuttings I took from the Forsaken Forest. The blade of the borrowed spade is streaked with earth.
Reposed on a low chaise beneath a slender white birch tree, Carys chatters absently as I work. Farley, sprawled on the twin chaise beside her, interjects occasionally with a witty remark or pithy comment. We have spent many such mornings like this, the three of us, bound together by our unique confinements.
“If this baby does not put in an appearance soon, I’m placing it in the care of the fyre priestesses at the Temple of the Gods,” Carys decrees. “At this rate, I’m going to miss all the Fyremas festivities.”
I pluck a particularly large weed, unperturbed by her threats. There is no heat in them. Besides, I have heard them all before, made with increasing frequency as her stomach grows rounder and rounder, her burden heavier and heavier, and still there are no signs of labor.
“And my husband. Where is he? After putting me in this condition, he simply vanishes?” She is scowling now, but the hands that stroke rhythmically over her distended belly are utterly gentle. “Men.”
“Come now, Carys,” Farley puts in bravely. “Uther is doing his best to help Pendefyre secure the Ember Guild. You know how tense things are within our ranks since—”
He breaks off suddenly. In the following silence, I can hear the words he does not say.Since Gower.Likewise, I can feel two worried gazes burning into the back of my neck as I bend lower over the flower bed, my skirts pooling around me in a cloud of fabric. They never voice their worries. Not to me, not aloud. We have hardly discussed my ordeal at all. That first morning, Carys had merely clasped my cheek with one of her fine-boned hands, looked deeply into my eyes, and murmured something about putting on the tea. As if she had been waiting only the span of a single night since our last visit. As if nothing had changed.
“Rhya, dear,” she breezes now, forcing a light tone. “You’re a healer. Tell me how I can hasten this birth along.”
I sit back on my heels and wipe my hands on my apron. “Your babe will come when it’s time. This is no race. There is no need to hurry if you are healthy enough to carry a few more days.”
“Rhya.” The faint whine in her voice is familiar. “Please.”
“There are certain herbs to induce labor, but I would not give them to you for any reason besides as a last resort.” I heave a martyred sigh. “Some claim spicy foods can trigger birthing pains. Others swear raspberry leaf tea does the trick. Then, there’s the therapeutic massage of the pressure points, using sagethorn oil or rose-hip extract…”
“So? Which method shall we try first?”
“None of them, Carys.”
“Whyever not?”
“Because the best way to hurry the babe along requires no tinctures or teas. You only need some physical activity.Lightphysical activity,” I stress, seeing the excited spark in her eyes. “A very short walk. Or…well…activity of a different sort…”
“And what sort is that?” Carys prompts when I falter.
Farley snorts. “Can’t you guess? Look how she’s blushing! The sort of activity you need your husband for, I’d reckon.”
I shoot him a look. “I am not blushing!”
“Red as a beet, Ace.”
Ignoring him, I look at Carys with as much dignity as I can muster. “Annoying as he may be, he’s not wrong. Some say that…intimate activities in the marriage bed are enough to…stimulate…”
“Farley!” Carys clips sharply. “Stop giggling like a schoolboy and go get my husband. Now.”
“But—”
“No buts!” she snaps at the sulking redhead. “He’s likely at the sparring pits. If you get a move on, even with those crutches, you can be back with him in no more than an hour.”
“I’m not supposed to leave the two of you unattended,” he says with great dignity. “Pendefyre said—”
“Och! Fine! Forget it!” With considerable effort, Carys pushes herself upright on the chaise. Planting her slippers on the flagstones,she struggles to her feet with a surge of determination. “I’ll go get him myself if it’s such a great imposition—”