she was expecting. He couldn’t decide if that galled him or made him feel…comforted. There was something comforting about knowing he wasn’t going to be alone. Oh, she couldn’t really be a part of it, but…he wasn’t alone.
He slowly began to undress, his eyes never leaving hers as he did this. He was not a shy person. He really did not care if he was naked or clothed in front of strangers. He was that confident in knowing he would never be truly vulnerable in the world, that he would always be able to take care of himself even if all he had were his bare hands. Even those men who had waylaid him the night he had met her—he was sure he would have prevailed in the end.
But there was something about undressing in front of her that felt…provocative. Feeling her curious eyes on him was almost like feeling her touch against his skin. He tried to shake it off, but that was hard to do when his body was filling with heat at the same time. Soon he would burn. Burn for her eyes to see and watch. Again, it felt intimate. Far too intimate. He was shocked to realize that by the time he was fully naked, he was inexplicably hard. Aroused. Aware.
She took all of this in. All of him in. Her eyes were wide and curious, and she was nibbling a little on her bottom lip. Slowly he sat down in the water, letting the coolness of it wash over his hot body. And for some reason, just before he broiled into cinder and ash, his body burning away in fierce bits and pieces, he thought of how long it had been since he had been intimate with a woman. And then he thought of who that woman had been.
His wife. Casiria. The woman he had once loved with everything he was. She had birthed his sons for him. She had meant everything. But she and his sons were long gone now. He had not had the opportunity to see them grow into men, and he had no way of finding out what kind of men they had become. They were dead. Long dead and forgotten by everyone but him.
The water boiled as though in response to his turmoil, in response to his present pain and the memory of pain. Pain no one would ever understand…pain he had never shared with anyone.
By the time juquil’s hour arrived, he felt destroyed in more ways than one, more ways than just the physical. His body was ravaged and burned, brittle and blackened. Almost everything he was had been burned away to the bones. It took some time before his eyes healed enough for him to be able to see her, for his muscles to finally move under his command.
She was close to him, her hands reaching out gently to him, touching his burned flesh.
“I see now. I see the pain of it,” she said. “I could not tell from a distance before…but now I see how truly painful this is for you. Can I do something to give you relief?” she asked, her eyes and tone tender and warm.
“Your kindness is enough,” he said. And he meant it. There was something soothing in her nearness.
“Now we can talk until you feel better. Tell me, who are you here in the world of men?”
The question was a curious one, but he answered her. “I am a warrior. But you know this.”
“You are more than a warrior, to be sure. My father is a warrior, but he is also a husband, a father, and a brother. Who are you?”
“I am a brother,” he said. “One of four. Two are with me here, in the city of Kriza.”
“And are they warriors too?”
“Yes. Very strong ones. They are impressive men.”
“And do they burn like you do?”
“One did. It was different for him. It was the flames of hell that burned him. I…I burn like the sun, from the inside out.”
“You say he did. You mean in the past? But no longer?”
“Yes,” he said, not elaborating further.
But she did not let him get away with that, and he had not expected she would. “Why did he stop?” she asked.
“It is a long story.”
“Why did it start?”
“You ask too many questions,” he said irritably.
“How else am I to know you?”
“What if I don’t want
He slowly began to undress, his eyes never leaving hers as he did this. He was not a shy person. He really did not care if he was naked or clothed in front of strangers. He was that confident in knowing he would never be truly vulnerable in the world, that he would always be able to take care of himself even if all he had were his bare hands. Even those men who had waylaid him the night he had met her—he was sure he would have prevailed in the end.
But there was something about undressing in front of her that felt…provocative. Feeling her curious eyes on him was almost like feeling her touch against his skin. He tried to shake it off, but that was hard to do when his body was filling with heat at the same time. Soon he would burn. Burn for her eyes to see and watch. Again, it felt intimate. Far too intimate. He was shocked to realize that by the time he was fully naked, he was inexplicably hard. Aroused. Aware.
She took all of this in. All of him in. Her eyes were wide and curious, and she was nibbling a little on her bottom lip. Slowly he sat down in the water, letting the coolness of it wash over his hot body. And for some reason, just before he broiled into cinder and ash, his body burning away in fierce bits and pieces, he thought of how long it had been since he had been intimate with a woman. And then he thought of who that woman had been.
His wife. Casiria. The woman he had once loved with everything he was. She had birthed his sons for him. She had meant everything. But she and his sons were long gone now. He had not had the opportunity to see them grow into men, and he had no way of finding out what kind of men they had become. They were dead. Long dead and forgotten by everyone but him.
The water boiled as though in response to his turmoil, in response to his present pain and the memory of pain. Pain no one would ever understand…pain he had never shared with anyone.
By the time juquil’s hour arrived, he felt destroyed in more ways than one, more ways than just the physical. His body was ravaged and burned, brittle and blackened. Almost everything he was had been burned away to the bones. It took some time before his eyes healed enough for him to be able to see her, for his muscles to finally move under his command.
She was close to him, her hands reaching out gently to him, touching his burned flesh.
“I see now. I see the pain of it,” she said. “I could not tell from a distance before…but now I see how truly painful this is for you. Can I do something to give you relief?” she asked, her eyes and tone tender and warm.
“Your kindness is enough,” he said. And he meant it. There was something soothing in her nearness.
“Now we can talk until you feel better. Tell me, who are you here in the world of men?”
The question was a curious one, but he answered her. “I am a warrior. But you know this.”
“You are more than a warrior, to be sure. My father is a warrior, but he is also a husband, a father, and a brother. Who are you?”
“I am a brother,” he said. “One of four. Two are with me here, in the city of Kriza.”
“And are they warriors too?”
“Yes. Very strong ones. They are impressive men.”
“And do they burn like you do?”
“One did. It was different for him. It was the flames of hell that burned him. I…I burn like the sun, from the inside out.”
“You say he did. You mean in the past? But no longer?”
“Yes,” he said, not elaborating further.
But she did not let him get away with that, and he had not expected she would. “Why did he stop?” she asked.
“It is a long story.”
“Why did it start?”
“You ask too many questions,” he said irritably.
“How else am I to know you?”
“What if I don’t want
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