Tale of the Necromancer (Memento Mori 3) - Page 9

4

Gideon scoopedthe poor creature up into his arms. Very well, perhaps he could have worded his proposition to her a bit gentler. But he had been a bit caught up in the moment himself, finally being truly in her presence. Her emerald eyes had fascinated him, hypnotizing him like he was nothing but a snake in a basket. Before he knew it, he had blurted out his intentions.

For a fraction of a moment, when she swooned into his arms, he wondered if he had merely been struck by the gods of good luck. But when she went limp, he knew he had merely overwhelmed her.

He carried her back inside and shook his head at the guards who took in the sight of him carrying the unconscious young woman with rightful alarm. “Nothing to be concerned over. Marguerite merely exerted herself after too much wine.” He smiled, easily playing the role of the physician. Simply because he was. Yes, magic was his true forte, but he was as skilled in the art of healing, as he was the rest of what he called his trade. “I will take her to bed and ensure she’s cared for.”

The guards nodded, smiling to themselves at what they must have believed to be nothing but courtly antics. If the young woman was approaching her twentieth birthday as he suspected, he was likely not the first to sneak her away for a night of affection. The French did view that manner of things rather differently than the English or the German.

After asking a maid for directions to Marguerite’s room, he took his time in taking her there. He enjoyed the feel of her in his arms. She was a little thing, shorter in stature than most, but figured in such a way that made his mouth water.

No, no. Pace thyself even but a little, you fool.

Stepping into her room, he laid her down on top of the quilt of her bed and returned to the door to quietly shut it. Stepping back to the bed, he sat on the edge and reached out to gently place the back of his fingers against her forehead.

No fever. Merely stunned. He had worried for a moment that he had happened upon her just as she was to be seized by some deadly ailment. It would be my luck.

Standing, he pulled a blanket up over her. Fetching a light towel from the water basin on her dresser, he dipped it in the cool liquid. Wringing it out, he returned to her side to press it to her forehead. “Poor dear. I hope you know this was not my intention.” He chuckled quietly to himself. “Although I had imagined being in your bedroom this evening, this was hardly the manner in which I had hoped.”

At the sound of his voice, she stirred, letting out a low hum and turning her head to the side.

“Easy, now, not too fast.”

She pulled in a startled hiss of air through her nose, her eyes flying wide. In a moment, she panicked and punched him.

Right to the face.

He groaned in pain and pressed a hand to his nose where she had smarted him. Despite the blow, he had to laugh. “I deserved that.” His princess had a little fight in her, and a fairly impressive punch, all things considered. It only made him adore her more.

“I—I—What—what are you—”

“You fainted, my dear. I brought you here to rest. I apologize for startling you, but I am a physician, and—”

“You fiend!” She punched him again, this time to the temple. He winced and stood to get out of her reach as she went for a third, sloppier hit. Her disorientation was seemingly cured as she flew off the bed to follow him, striking him now with both fists. “You rotten—”

He caught her wrists and pulled them behind her back, smiling down at her furious face as it put her chest squarely against his.

Her cheeks instantly went pink. “Let me go, or I’ll scream.”

“Let me speak, or I will claim you have some manner of dangerous and contagious madness.” His smile faded to a smirk. “As I said, I am a physician and alchemist in service to your queen.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Uncertainty flickered behind emerald eyes of rage and righteousness.

Arching an eyebrow, he called her bluff. “Wouldn’t I?”

“If you want to speak, then let me go, and we may do so from opposite ends of the room.”

He hummed thoughtfully then shook his head. “A fair negotiation, but I fear you are not in the position to make demands, my pr—”

Her knee met his groin. That time, he fell to a knee and doubled over. He had to press a hand to the offended part of his anatomy as stars flashed over his vision. His princess had more than a little fight in her. Making a valuable note not to underestimate the girl again, he looked up to see her standing before him, several feet away, brandishing a jeweled hairpin as though it were a sword. She glared at him with all the quiet rage that would waver the resolve of a Greek goddess.

By the gods, she’s adorable.

“I deserved that as well,” he managed to get out after he could inhale enough air to speak. “I take your point. I have imposed upon you.”

“Grievously.”

“I would sincerely hope not.” Kneeling fully, he sat back on his ankles. He did not want her to fear him. Especially not so early on. She would come to learn much about him that would fill her with dread. The memory of their first meeting should not add to the list. “I apologize profusely if that is the case. I did not mean to scare you, or wrong you, or—”

Tags: Kathryn Ann Kingsley Memento Mori Fantasy
Source: readsnovelonline.net
readsnovelonline.net Copyright 2016 - 2024