Page 36 of Straw and Gold
My eyes shot open in annoyance. “Of course you are, but maybe after you have a few dozen under your belt.”
He leaned forward and all I could see was him. “My shirt has never looked so good as it does on you.”
Even through the mounds of blankets covering my body, I shivered, suddenly very aware that I was underneath my husband. He took my chin in his hand, leaning down and whispering above my lips, “Ann córrch, banabh brèagha.”
He kissed me with lips that parted only slightly and pulled away before I was anywhere near done with him. He left my side and I remained, grinning like a fool.
Rest, beautiful woman.
Dawn cameand I missed it. Late morning led to early afternoon, and still I slept. By mid afternoon, I stretched, burrowing my head into my pillow, my body sore from so much sleep.
“Does the exhaustion always take you to twelve hours of sleep?” My husband’s voice rumbled from somewhere near my bed and I smiled, soaking in the slow rise from sleep with him nearby.
“Yes,” I yawned, turning on my back and stretching my hands up to my headboard.
When I opened my eyes, I found him in a chair at my bedside, arms resting on his thighs and eyes roving over my body in his shirt. I kicked away the sheets, revealing all of thebeautiful womanhe had ordered to rest.
My shirt has never looked so good as it does on you.
A smirk drifted over my mouth and I locked my gaze with his, refusing to let go.
“Morella,” he rasped.
I lifted myself up to sit, folding my legs underneath me. “Yes?”
He opened his mouth to speak, but held back whatever he was going to say. Instead, he took the plate on the bedside table and positioned it between us. “You need to eat this.”
That black circle of meat was sliced into three thick pieces. I reared back in disgust. “No, thank you,” I squeaked.
He shook his head, grabbing a fork and cutting a bite-sized piece. “Fedir believes we’ve identified your condition, and if he is correct, it’s easily remedied.”
“With this?” I asked incredulously, turning my head again when he offered the bite.
“Iron. Your blood lacks or cannot retain it. These nuts,”—he pulled a small jar of thistle nuts from his pocket—“contain a high amount of iron, which is why they help you. This, however,”—he waved the fork in front of my face again—“contains three times the amount of iron and will be a far more beneficial food for you to consume regularly.”
I eyed the fuilhe with doubt. “Why does he believe this is my condition?”
“Exhaustion, dizziness, and cold hands are all symptoms. It’s more common in women due to their cycles and from how you describe that you’ve always been somewhat…weaker than other Ravenfae, this makes the most sense.”
I shrugged, my stomach churning at the evidence that added up. “Maybe I’m just cursed. And I don’t have cold hands.”
“Are you cursed, Morella?”
I thought briefly of my life and how everything was a struggle. Including getting my husband to do husbandly things. But there he was, sitting at the edge of my bed, offering food to help me feel stronger.
I shook my head in a solid no.
He set the fork on the plate and held his hand out between us, palm-up.
I placed my hand in his and he wrapped his fingers around mine. “Cold,” he confirmed softly. “Just like every time you’ve touched my arm, your hands have been cold.”
“Oh,” I mumbled, pulling my hand back. But his fingers trapped it there as he met my gaze again.
He picked up the fork with his other hand and offered the fuilhe for the third time. “Please cooperate.”
I leaned forward, opening my mouth and pulling the meat from the fork. He watched me chew slowly, tracking my movements as I swallowed.
“Good, Moh Dhóches,” he praised. Instant heat coursed through me, tingling my nerves. He cut pieces for me one by one until I’d managed to consume all three circles, all while murmuring variations of how well I was doing.
