CHAPTER SIX
BETH
As we entered the tavern for a second time, Bleddyn kept me pressed against his side. I breathed easier, knowing no prying eyes could penetrate his protection. His cloak covered my upper body, and I could barely see where I set my feet.
Once, I stumbled, but he lifted me as if I weighed nothing, his arm tightening around me until I found my footing again.
“Your room is ready upstairs, milord. Second to the left.” The woman’s voice sounded muffled, and I was too tired to peek out from under the rough material to see her face. Frankly, I didn’t care.
Bleddyn walked slowly up the stairs, making sure I kept up. I didn’t know why I was that exhausted. Sure, getting assaulted and nearly raped could take it out of a body, but I was young and reasonably fit. The trip had been tiring, but no worse than doing a session at the gym. Yet somehow, I felt as drained as if I’d run a marathon.
“Wake up, caria— Beth. You need to take your clothes off.”
My head felt as if it were stuffed with cotton wool. How was I sitting on the edge of a large bed? Last I remembered, we’d been halfway up the stairs. Had I passed out?
Like a child, I allowed Bleddyn to lift my arms and move my legs to strip me efficiently. His hands hesitated when he saw my bra.
“Humans and their strange garments,” he muttered as he reached over my shoulder and fumbled with the clasp. The restriction loosened, and he shoved me under the cover.
“Lie down. You need rest. May the goddess guard your dreams.”
There was a musty smell wafting off the covers, but I ignored it and snuggled under the heavy blanket. Just before I was out, I could have sworn Bleddyn bent over me and kissed my forehead. I took the weirdness of the gesture into a deep, dreamless sleep.
***
“Wake up, human.”
Groaning in protest, I pulled the cover tighter around me.
“None of that now. Get up. A new day awaits us.”
Curse Bleddyn and his stupid cheerfulness. Reluctantly, I glared at him through one half-closed eye. Then I squeezed both eyes shut in disbelief before flinging them wide open.
The Fae stood in front of a bowl of water, wiping down his chest and back with a cloth, smirking at me from across the room.
Holy hell, the boy was stacked. The morning light came in from the side, throwing his abs into relief. As he stretched to clean his neck, his triceps popped and his shoulder muscles bunched.
I gulped at the sight. Maybe I should rethink my decision to fly solo for a while. Looking at Bleddyn caused all kinds of interesting reactions in my body. I pressed my thighs together for a moment, then realized I was acting like a grade A perv. The man was washing, not giving me a peep show.
Time to get up and figure what to do next. I sat up and looked for my clothes. They were neatly folded at the foot of the bed. I reached for them and quickly slipped them on under the cover. Then I stood up, fighting off a wave of dizziness.
“Good morning. Where did you sleep?”
Bleddyn pointed at a stack of blankets on the floor. “I promised I would not compromise your virtue.”
Great, now I felt guilty. While I’d slept like the dead, my travel companion had spent the night on a hard, not too clean floor.
Bleddyn interpreted my expression correctly and waved off my concern. “Believe me, I have slept in worse places.”
There was a knock at the door, and the same female voice as last night said, “Breakfast is ready, milord. Would you have it served in bed, or will you join us downstairs?”
As I waited for Bleddyn to answer, a word drifted through my memory. Cariad. Had he said it last night, or had it been a dream? I couldn’t be sure. All the events after dinner seemed so far away already.
“We will come and eat downstairs. Thank you.”
Bleddyn bent to pick up his belongings and packed them into his bag. The move highlighted his muscular thighs and butt. I swallowed, unable to take my eyes off his figure. As if he could feel my gaze, he turned his head, still in his prone position, and grinned as he caught me gawping.
“Is there something wrong with my breeches? A stain or tear, maybe?”
He was giving me an out, knowing full well I’d ogled him. My face heated, and I tore my eyes away. “No, no. I was just wondering what your pants are made of.”
Lame, Beth. So lame.
Bleddyn played along, pretending my question was genuine. “They are woven from the wool of defaid. You call them sheep. The fabric keeps the heat in and the rain out. Your pants would not do that. They absorb water and become heavy, chilling your skin and bone.”
I looked down at my jeans. He was right. If we’d get caught in a rain storm, denim was a horrible fabric. Cold and a bitch to dry. I also only had one pair, which caused more problems. I needed to buy more clothes.
My fingers absently brushed the empty pocket of my jeans. I had no—what had he called them? Aurints. I glanced at Bleddyn, unsure of how to broach the subject.
“Bleddyn,” I began. “I’m kind of screwed. I have no money. Could I borrow some from you? I promise I will find a job and pay you back as soon as possible.”
The Fae looked at me as the seconds ticked by. My face heated up again. I’d misjudged the situation, clearly. And now he didn’t know how to turn me down. Ugh. So embarrassing.
Quickly, I said, “Look, I’m sorry. It’s fine. Forget I asked.”
Bleddyn raised his hand to shut me up. “It would be my honor. I am not without means, and I fear without my guidance, you would be dead by sundown.”
I bristled. “Oh, come on. It’s not that bad. I grew up in New Jersey, you know?”
By his confused expression, he didn’t know.
“Anyway, I grew up in a big city. So much bigger than your capital. I might need a little help to figure out how things work around here, but I’ll be fine.”
After an awkward pause, I added, “And thanks for your offer. That’s very kind of you.”
Bleddyn grabbed his bag and left the room. Holding the door, he said, “Let us continue our conversation over breakfast.”
Together, we descended the stairs. Once we were seated at a table in the corner, a woman brought mugs of a steaming liquid that smelled faintly of apples. Then she placed two bowls in front of us. I sniffed at what looked like gruel.
When I lifted my spoon out of the liquid, it oozed off it like primordial soup. I was supposed to eat that? It looked anything but appetizing. But my stomach grumbled, and I sighed. I was starving and needed nourishment.
Before I could stick the gloop into my mouth, Bleddyn murmured, “Drink a little after each spoonful. It will slip down easier.”
Grateful for his advice, I grimaced and plopped the mash between my teeth. To my relief, it didn’t taste nearly as bad as I’d expected. The texture was still gross and slimy, but the flavor was grainy with a hint of fermentation. It was not sweetened, though. I swallowed and pulled another face as the mass slipped down my throat.
Bleddyn pushed the mug toward me. “Drink.”
To my surprise, the hot liquid was delicious. The heated apple drink tasted of cinnamon, and the natural sweetness made my tastebuds sing. Under it all was something else I couldn’t define. The moment the cider hit my stomach, it exploded into a ball of heat that spread through my entire body.
It was so good, I didn’t mind the spoonfuls of gruel, as long as I could wash it down with the warm apple juice. I felt like a little sun was glowing in my middle. It had to be some kind of magic. I’d had cider before, and never had it had that effect on me.
When we were finished, Bleddyn left some aurints on the table. The woman who’d served us scooped up the copper coins. “Thank you, milord. Please, honor us again with your presence.”
She spoke only to him and ignored me completely. I was okay with that, although I was glad to leave this place where everybody seemed to think I was Bleddyn’s hoe.