Page 56 of Heart of Winter
His pulse went wild.
“The important thing,” Erik said, smiling at him, still so softly, “is that you’re on the mend.”
Those eyes were blue and wide enough to drown in.
Footsteps hurried across the flags in the hall, and Erik released him and stood all in one smooth movement just before the door opened. It was Tessa, returned with a breakfast tray.
“Olaf is just behind me, bringing his bag full of bottles. And I saw the princes in the great hall, they want to come up and see you for themselves, and of course Revna…”
She laid a tray on the desk and poured tea from a small pot, but Oliver wasn’t listening to her. He stared instead at Erik, who stood now at the window, hands braced on the ledge, staring out through the glass at the snowy field beyond. A faint smile graced his lips, and maybe it was a trick of the light, but Oliver thought he saw a faint dusting of pink along his sharp cheekbone.
~*~
When Olaf arrived, Erik excused himself, and though Oliver hated to see him leave, it was easier on his poor heart not to spend any more time examining smiles and eyebrow lifts andface touchesand trying to interpret their meaning.
Olaf announced that he was fever-free, and, with enough rest, fluids, and nutrient-rich food, he could expect to be back to normal within a few weeks.
“A few weeks?”
“Don’t push yourself too hard too fast, lad,” he cautioned. “Maybe a little walking around your chamber tomorrow. To the library by Friday. But if you overtire yourself, you’ll be right back where you were.”
Oliver grumbled, but he knew all of this. Fevers, and the slow, annoying recoveries from them, were a large part of the landscape of his youth.
He managed to eat a little, and Leif and Rune came to visit.
“We thought you were dead for sure,” Rune said with his usual tact. But then glanced worriedly at Tessa and said, “I mean, not really. It was only that you looked dead.” He winced.
Leif rolled his eyes, but Oliver snorted a laugh.
By the time Tessa finally shooed them out, and then left him with a smile and a promise to be back later, his eyelids were flagging. He lied back and let sleep take him – a thankfully dreamless sleep, the sort of deeply restful nap he so badly needed.
When he woke, the sunlight was slanted and amber, a rich sunset light, and Lady Revna sat in the chair beside his bed, mending a tunic.
“There he is,” she said brightly, sparing him a quick grin before returning her attention to her task. “Back among the living.”
Oliver hitched up higher against his pillows, and neatened the covers in his lap. Exhaustion lay like a quilt over him, but he didn’t ache as badly, now. “Thanks to a snow bath and psychedelic roses, apparently,” he joked.
She chuckled. “Don’t be too quick to dismiss the psychedelic roses.”
“I definitely won’t.”
“Or the stubborn sod who insisted you be given them in the first place.”
Oliver had a feeling, based on her tone, that the stubborn sod in question wasn’t Olaf. “Where’s Tessa?” he asked.
“Sleeping, poor dear. She’s worn out and I’ve finally gotten her to put on a nightgown and go to bed properly.”
He shook his head. “She shouldn’t have run herself ragged looking after me.”
“She had help. Astrid, and Thyra, and me, and Olaf’s boys, andmyboys. I never could get her to sleep for very long, though. Stubborn like her cousin,” she said, lifting up a quick grin.
He smiled ruefully back. “I’d always hoped she would be smarter than me.”
“Nothing wrong with stubbornness. Gods knows it runs in my family, too. Speaking of which.” Her gaze lifted, sharp, suddenly, pinning him back against the pillows, and her hands never wavered on the needle and cloth. “I wanted to reassure you that you were very carefully watched over during your illness, so if you’re worried about the wrong person overhearing anything you might have been murmuring in your sleep, you needn’t be.”
He felt the blood rush to his face, and it was an effort to maintain eye contact with her. “My apologies, my lady, if I was in any way untoward.”
She rolled her eyes, and was smirking when she returned her gaze to his. “Oh, don’t worry about me. Even in the throes of fever, your affections were singularly fixed. And not on me.”
