Page 41 of Tashama
Tashama motioned to a servant to bring her a slice of fish. She lifted the white meat to her lips, then savored the lemon-pepper flavored filet. “I answered—do you think I am?”
“I don’t know what to think.”
“Okay, I’m not a sorceress.”
The sorcerer rubbed his chin, then shook his head. “You seem to be telling the truth in part, but a human cannot block her thoughts from me as you’re capable of doing.”
“Yet you say mortals cannot swim. I swim, so therefore I must be immortal.”
“You are not immortal!” the prince said.
“No, Prince Aleron, I am not.”
“You cannot swim!”
Fine lines beneath her eyes appeared as a smile stretched across her face, like the sun’s rays shining on a peach-colored morning.
The healer walked into the room, and the prince motioned to Tashama. “Tell me if she can enter the bath.” The healer stared at the prince. “Tell me!”
The healer knelt at her feet and unwrapped the cloth binding them. “How are your ribs feeling this afternoon?”
“You have healed them, healer, and I thank you for your kindness.”
The healer pulled off the bandage of her left foot and shook his head. “She needs to keep her feet dry for at least another day while the wounds heal.”
“Another day?” the prince said.
“Yes, sire. In another day, I believe her feet will be well-healed.”
“Leave us.”
The healer rewrapped her foot, then hurried out of the room.
“You have been saved from the bath for the moment.” He sat down on the pillows and waved for a goblet of wine. He drank the entire goblet of wine.
“Do you always drink your wine so quickly?” She stretched her arms above her head. “It would all go to my head.” The sorcerer smiled. “But my thoughts would be unclear for you to read.”
“So we’ve found,” Carissian said.
The prince studied her hair, then turned and waved for a servant. The servant offered him the tray of cheese and apples.The prince picked up a slice of cheese. He bit into it as Tashama touched his free hand. She frowned.
Carissian’s brows furrowed as he leaned forward. “What are you attempting to do?”
“Nothing, sorcerer.” Tashama lay back down.
Carissian shook his head, then walked over to the pillows as the prince and Tashama stared up at him. “What is it, Carissian?” the prince asked.
“She was trying to read you somehow.”
She rested her hands on her waist and nestled her head on a plump purple pillow. The prince stared at her, then touched his fingers to her hand. “By touching me? What could she read?”
“I’m not certain.”
“What were you doing?” the prince asked Tashama.
“I have the gift. Did you not know?”
“The gift? What gift?”
