Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 117336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
I wonder if, as his consort, I should be thinking of ways to get him to stay here and protect the people. If he leaves, we're vulnerable again. I know just how to do it, too. Pretend that I've caved in and fawn over him. Tell him how amazing he is. Suck his dick so hard and so frequently that he doesn't have time to think about going back to his world. That'd be the smart thing to do.
So why do I hold out? Why do I hate the idea of that even as I change into a fresh, pretty dress to go to dinner with him? It's not like we talk a ton at dinner. He eats. I eat. We give a few stabs at conversation and then give up. I head off to bathe and work on my knitting, and he disappears until bedtime. He doesn't touch me, either.
I'm fed. I'm clothed. My hair’s the best it’s been in seven years. I'm not being raped. Almost every woman in the fort would trade places with me, gladly. So why can't I be satisfied? Why do I want something more than just a pretty dress and a bath before I start tossing around sexual favors? Girl, you value that pussy of yours too highly sometimes, I tell myself. I bathe quickly as I get ready for dinner, wiping down my face and under my arms to get rid of the worst of the sweat. I've seen his nostrils flare a few times and I remember Claudia mentioning that “her dragon” had a sensitive nose. If Azar is anything like that dragon guy of hers, he'd probably appreciate my efforts.
Refreshed, I head to dinner, determined to try and talk to Azar. Just to feel out the possibility of…doing more. When I enter the dining room, instead of seeing a wealth of piping hot dishes in front of us, there are sandwiches. There's a pitcher of what looks like cool lemonade, and I can practically taste it. It doesn't matter that there's no ice inside the pitcher, and probably no sugar in the lemonade. Just the lemonade itself will taste refreshing.
Azar sits at the far end of the table, his sandwich in front of him. He looks up at the sight of me. "It's another hot day and I thought we might have a cooler meal."
"This is wonderful," I tell him, and it really is. The bread looks almost like it would have in the Before, and the sandwich has meat, a wilted lettuce leaf, and plentiful slices of tomato and cucumber on it. "I love a sandwich." I eye my end of the table, noticing that Azar has gone for fewer candles, too. I think about the fort, and about him leaving, and impulsively pick up my plate and the lemonade and set them down next to him. "Can I join you?"
He looks startled—startled and pleased. "Of course."
I sit down next to him and begin to eat my sandwich, enjoying the fresh vegetables. I know they're a treat, and most people in the fort don't get them, so I savor every bite. The lemonade is sour but still refreshing. As I chew, I glance over at him. I can tell he's trying to watch me without being obvious, and I decide maybe conversation is a good idea. After all, I'm the one that sat next to him. It'd be weird if I was just silent. I glance at his long-fingered hands, where there's only a hint of a burn remaining. It's wild that he healed up that well, especially given how badly he was hurt and how long it took to recover. "How are you feeling?"
"Feeling?"
"Your burns?" I remind him. "You left my clinic only a few weeks ago after being near death."
He sets his sandwich down and glances over at me. "Are you asking because you're a healer, or because you wish to know my weaknesses?"
Wow. I suppose my being chatty could be misconstrued as deviousness. I do have an ulterior motive, after all. "Because I'm a healer," I say. "You were burned pretty badly and required a lot of care. But when I look at you, I don't see more than a trace of those burns." I stretch out my pinky and brush it against the back of his hand. "It's just curious to me."
Azar stiffens the moment I touch him, his gaze going to his hand. "My people recover quickly. The burns were not the worst I was struggling with. I had…other things that had taxed my strength. That was why I took a long time to heal."
"Other things?"
To my surprise, he takes a bite out of his sandwich and goes silent.
It's not like Azar to avoid the question and I wonder if I've pushed too far. "I'm sorry if it seems like I'm prying, but is there something else I should know about? Something else I should have treated? So I can know how to handle it in the future?"