get some sleep. You and I will have the next watch.”
He entered the private room where the princess lay resting in fresh, dry clothing her maid had brought. Hilda had pulled Gisela’s long hair from its braid. He could see the comb she’d been using to untangle its vast matted wetness. The golden color glowed in the flickering lamplight.
So did her feverish skin. Everything around her eye was still swollen, but at least the herbs were still packed in place where they could do their work.
“Your Highness?”
Princess Gisela turned at the sound of his voice. Relief erased the tension from her features just before a convulsive shiver ran through her.
“Are you feeling worse?” He rushed to her side and felt her face. It was burning hot. Had he imagined it, or was her fever slightly less intense than it had been on the road? Surely the cold river waters had diminished it somewhat, but he couldn’t risk pressing his lips to her again just to be certain. “What can I do for you?”
“I—I’m—” even her voice shuddered as chills quaked through her “—so cold.” Her jaw quivered.
John addressed the maid. “We need more blankets. Tell Renwick to peel the curtains from the litter, if necessary. We’ve got to keep her warm. She’ll waste all her strength shivering otherwise.”
Her fingers felt icy cold as she found his hand, clinging to it as though for dear life.
“S-so c-c-c-old.”
John scooped her up in the crook of his arm until she sat beside him. He pulled her against him and tried to still her shivers. Hilda headed for the open door, her efforts focused more on fretting than carrying out his instructions.
“Ask the innkeeper’s wife to bring hot water. We’ll have to soak Her Highness’s feet. If they’re half as cold as her hands, they must be like ice.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Hilda lingered in the doorway wringing her hands.
“Hurry!”
The woman startled and leaped through the door.
It was only after she’d gone that John realized he should have run the errands himself. But he couldn’t leave the princess now. She’d burrowed against his shoulder. Her violent tremors stilled until she merely trembled against him, her feverish breaths even against his neck.
With the pack of herbs still tied tight against her eyelid, there was little he could do but hold her and try to keep her shivering to a minimum. “Is there anything you’d like me to do for you, Your Highness?”
The princess had grown so still in his arms, her shivering reduced to mere quivering, that John wondered for a moment if she hadn’t lapsed out of consciousness again. But then she clenched his hand more tightly and whispered, “Don’t leave me.”
The sincerity of her plea, voiced in such a faint whisper, doused him with an overwhelming desire to see her safely through this ordeal. She was more than just a political pawn, an inconvenience whose arrival might bring war upon his peaceful kingdom.
She was also a woman whose rare bravery had saved her ship. She didn’t deserve to die in return for the good she’d done. An unfamiliar fascination pulled at him. If he could do so without awakening further the emotions buried inside him, he’d like to learn more about the remarkable daughter of the emperor. But in order for that to happen, she’d have to survive the night.
* * *
Gisela clutched at the coarse fabric of King John’s tunic. This wasn’t the same chain mail habergeon he’d worn over leather garments when she’d ridden with him earlier.
But he was still the same man, his woodsy scent already chasing away the boiled cabbage odor that had trailed through the open door after Hilda. His deep accent lilted pleasantly as he promised to stay by her side, to see her through her injuries until she’d recovered.
A sense of peace seeped past her fever as he held her securely, promising to do all he could to ease her pain. She’d have to be certain her father compensated King John for his selfless
He entered the private room where the princess lay resting in fresh, dry clothing her maid had brought. Hilda had pulled Gisela’s long hair from its braid. He could see the comb she’d been using to untangle its vast matted wetness. The golden color glowed in the flickering lamplight.
So did her feverish skin. Everything around her eye was still swollen, but at least the herbs were still packed in place where they could do their work.
“Your Highness?”
Princess Gisela turned at the sound of his voice. Relief erased the tension from her features just before a convulsive shiver ran through her.
“Are you feeling worse?” He rushed to her side and felt her face. It was burning hot. Had he imagined it, or was her fever slightly less intense than it had been on the road? Surely the cold river waters had diminished it somewhat, but he couldn’t risk pressing his lips to her again just to be certain. “What can I do for you?”
“I—I’m—” even her voice shuddered as chills quaked through her “—so cold.” Her jaw quivered.
John addressed the maid. “We need more blankets. Tell Renwick to peel the curtains from the litter, if necessary. We’ve got to keep her warm. She’ll waste all her strength shivering otherwise.”
Her fingers felt icy cold as she found his hand, clinging to it as though for dear life.
“S-so c-c-c-old.”
John scooped her up in the crook of his arm until she sat beside him. He pulled her against him and tried to still her shivers. Hilda headed for the open door, her efforts focused more on fretting than carrying out his instructions.
“Ask the innkeeper’s wife to bring hot water. We’ll have to soak Her Highness’s feet. If they’re half as cold as her hands, they must be like ice.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Hilda lingered in the doorway wringing her hands.
“Hurry!”
The woman startled and leaped through the door.
It was only after she’d gone that John realized he should have run the errands himself. But he couldn’t leave the princess now. She’d burrowed against his shoulder. Her violent tremors stilled until she merely trembled against him, her feverish breaths even against his neck.
With the pack of herbs still tied tight against her eyelid, there was little he could do but hold her and try to keep her shivering to a minimum. “Is there anything you’d like me to do for you, Your Highness?”
The princess had grown so still in his arms, her shivering reduced to mere quivering, that John wondered for a moment if she hadn’t lapsed out of consciousness again. But then she clenched his hand more tightly and whispered, “Don’t leave me.”
The sincerity of her plea, voiced in such a faint whisper, doused him with an overwhelming desire to see her safely through this ordeal. She was more than just a political pawn, an inconvenience whose arrival might bring war upon his peaceful kingdom.
She was also a woman whose rare bravery had saved her ship. She didn’t deserve to die in return for the good she’d done. An unfamiliar fascination pulled at him. If he could do so without awakening further the emotions buried inside him, he’d like to learn more about the remarkable daughter of the emperor. But in order for that to happen, she’d have to survive the night.
* * *
Gisela clutched at the coarse fabric of King John’s tunic. This wasn’t the same chain mail habergeon he’d worn over leather garments when she’d ridden with him earlier.
But he was still the same man, his woodsy scent already chasing away the boiled cabbage odor that had trailed through the open door after Hilda. His deep accent lilted pleasantly as he promised to stay by her side, to see her through her injuries until she’d recovered.
A sense of peace seeped past her fever as he held her securely, promising to do all he could to ease her pain. She’d have to be certain her father compensated King John for his selfless
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