Page 10 of His Noble Savior

“I can feel your injury,” Richard said.

“Oh.”

Richard regained control over his facial features as fast as it’d slipped. “I apologize; I didn’t mean to frighten you. It’s just… I’m so sorry this happened. I’ll do whatever it takes to help you. To make you feel better.”

Lilian’s chest expanded. Richard rotated his digit once more, then eased out, the movement slow and controlled as if he wasafraid to hurt Lilian at the end. He slipped free.

“How do you feel?” Richard asked.

“Better.”

“Good. How about I have a hot bath prepared for you? Then you can use the healing oil and hopefully, it’ll help you with your cuts and bruises.”

“That’d be wonderful.” Lilian couldn’t wait to wash the last four months off his skin and watch the grime and hurt drain away.

He sat up, and there was no twinge of pain stabbing his insides, only the pleasant ghost of Richard’s touch. The cloak slipped from his shoulders and pooled in his lap, exposing his chest and stomach. He didn’t mind. “I appreciate everything you’re doing for me. Please accept my gratitude. I’m indebted to you.”

Richard blinked as if to dispel something he’d seen, but he recovered his composure in a heartbeat. “Any decent person would help you. I know it’d be impolite to reject your debt, so I’ll say this: Please don’t worry about repaying me. There’s no rush.”

Richard had his servants heat buckets of water over the fire of the hearth and fill the wooden tub in his washroom. Soon, steam was curling in the air of the stone-tiled chamber and moisture slicked the walls. Richard dismissed the attendants and poured the healing oil into the bath. The moment it hit the water, the bath turned mint green and bubbles arose along with a foresty scent.

“I’ll wait outside while you take your bath,” Richard said, lightly palming Lilian’s upper arm.

A lump formed in Lilian’s throat. Richard leaving him alone in the washroom was normal. It wasn’t a sign of rejection. Anyone would agree. But as Richard stepped away it was as if a void opened between them, and Lilian feared to fall inside and be swallowed. There was no way an orc could force his way intothe room. The window was tiny, and Richard would be outside the door. Knights guarded the castle. Yet every foot of space between him and Richard was a foot too much. Lilian couldn’t stop the tremor rattling him as Richard moved through the door. He’d been abandoned so many times. What if Richard left? The thought was nonsensical; they were in Richard’s castle—where would he go? But the panic flaring in Lilian knew no logic.

“Wait!”

Richard turned.

“I’m sorry… Please… I know this is strange… but can you stay?” Lilian flushed.

Sadness crossed Richard’s features. “Of course.”

“I-I appreciate it. I’m sorry… It’s just… I only feel safe when you’re here.”When you’re holding me.

Richard ran a hand through his curls. “It’s all right. You don’t have to explain. I’ll stay by your side for as long as you want me to. Until you get sick of me.” A crooked smile curved a corner of Richard’s lips, and a weight lifted off Lilian’s shoulders. He’d never be sick of him. Richard closed the door, sealing them in the tight confines of the washroom. With anyone else, the lack of space would’ve frightened him, but with Richard, he welcomed the close quarters.

Richard turned his back when Lilian removed the cloak, and the thoughtfulness touched him. Richard had seen him naked; he’d been the one giving him the cloak in the first place, yet he was concerned about Lilian’s privacy. The kindness had tears pooling in Lilian’s eyes.

His body was littered with bruises and welts. Black and blue spots dotted his skin, some fresh from this morning, some days old, turning green and yellow as they faded. A particularly awful one darkened his hip to a painful purple. Lilian couldn’t remember how he’d gotten it. There had been too many to recall.

His stomach growled—it’d been a day since he’d eaten. Now acook qualified to prepare the meals of a lord was making food for him. Lilian couldn’t wait to dig in.

Gingerly, he climbed into the tub, holding onto the rim. His foot dipped into the wonderfully warm water. Beyond grateful for the hot bath, Lilian stepped inside. The winter had been bitter, the frigid cold creeping into Lilian’s body and settling so deep in his bones, not even the returning spring sun had been able to expel it. As Lilian sank into the bath, the cold seeped out of him, and he moaned.

Richard ripped around, eyes wide in alarm. “Is the water too hot? I can get—”

“No! It’s perfect. Almost too good.”

A flush traveling up his cheeks, Richard looked from side to side. He pulled up a wooden stool and sat by Lilian’s head, seemingly unsure what to do. The humidity curled his hair further. Why did that make him look so charming?

Lilian stretched his limbs underwater, a dense layer of white foam covering him. He went limp in the heat, and the muscles of his back and shoulders, which had hardened throughout months of stress, relaxed.

“I feel a bit useless,” Richard said, rubbing his neck. “Maybe I could wash your hair? I have lavender oil; it’d help us untangle your mane.”

“That’d be so kind of you.”

In captivity, Lilian’s fine hair had tangled into coarse lumps that he didn’t have the strength to straighten out. And what for? He hadn’t counted on living much longer.

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