"Yes, sir. I will tell her right away and I'm sure she'll be pleased to hear it,” the young faery maiden said, bobbing her head to me. "Will you be needing anything else?"
"No, thank you..."
I already saw a basket of fruit and hard cheese to carry us until dinner after our long days of travel, and I dared not ask for clean clothes yet.
The rooms were not to my style, of course. Potted plants and wooden furniture, mostly left natural but with trims of bright, cheerful paint in the forms of knots and greenery, made every room seem light and insubstantial. While the faeries enjoyed gold and gems as much as anyone, generally they eschewed displays of wealth and power. It seemed a little shabby to me, just a step up from a roadside inn. But it did welcome one, and the servants were springing on the beds and eating the fruit.
"Please comport yourselves like adults," I said. "I need the faeries to understand that I am a dangerous man. I really shall whip all three of you if anyone heard you laughing. Any one of you."
"I really haven't been whipped in a while," Jameson said languidly. “But you don’t have a whip. You might have to put us over your knees and give us a good smacking.”
Jameson could ruin anything. ”Just...quiet. This is important. I don't trust anything that's going on here."
"But it's so nice," Gillian said. "The apples are the tastiest I've ever tasted."
The more idyllic everything seemed, the more nervous I grew. I was sure I was being tricked and I vowed not to eat any of the food left in the room.
I knew the legends. I was no fool. I would help my toad bride to recover, and learn what I could of her people, to please her. Then I would whisk her away from here.
Chapter Three
Lord Variel
After a little while, a handsome faery man came to the door. At least, I thought he was very handsome for a faery, maybe because he shared my dark hair and grayish pallor. ”Lord Variel. I'm Lord Cyrus, one of the queen's healers. Bevan watched the girl’s beside for hours, and now it's your turn. She has not been conscious yet, but we need someone to keep watch over her in case she wakes and change her treatment as needed."
"This sounds very serious."
"It is. I do think she'll pull through."
"She must. I haven't made it clear to her that I accept my destiny to wed her."
"It sounds like you are all trying to challenge each other for the title," the man said, giving me a wry half-smile. "Good luck with that."
"The fates have shown me my bride, and I have decided not to fight it anymore."
"Ah," Lord Cyrus said. "The fates, the fates. Whoever they are, they must find us very entertaining. Well, here we are..."
My rooms were just down the hall from Jenny's sickbed. The smell of medicinal herbs was pleasant, but concerning, and sunlight fell on her in a huge airy bed. I was shocked to see her looking so small and deathly pale, with a compress on her head.
"How could the swamp sickness have affected her this badly? Have you checked her for other ailments?"
"She was also bitten by a poisonous fish," said a female healer sitting at Jenny's bedside. She stood up and washed her hands in a basin as she spoke, then removed her apron. "But...I think the real trouble is that she is a very Ethereal personality. Bevan told me her warlock was actually initiated into Sinistral, but her character remained resolutely Ethereal, and since he never asked her to do magic, she never had to bend her nature to his will. Thus, she is susceptible to a very bad case of Sinistral illnesses. Cyrus, are you taking over as healer on duty?"
Cyrus nodded. "I don't have anything better to do. Get some rest."
I went to Jenny's side. A very sickening feeling was descending on me like a storm cloud. I had never felt anything like it, as if my life had become entwined with hers, and if she died, I would have a difficult time moving on from it. I swallowed.
"Is there anything I can do, since this illness came from my own lands?"
"Well," Cyrus said, appraising me with narrowed eyes. "Far be it from me to involve myself in your affairs, but it sounds like you generated a considerable amount of chaos in her life just before this happened."
"I am a demon," I said. "And much like any ruler of a domain, I have responsibilities. I had to demonstrate to my servants that they serve at my pleasure."
"And it seems like her response was to demonstrate to you that it might just kill her," Cyrus shrugged. "You might have to decide if it's worth it to you to apologize.” He turned to a work table with herbs and small bottles. I took ahold of her small hand, and she felt even more small and fragile than I imagined. Even in human form, she hardly seemed more substantial than a small animal. My claws could have gashed her even accidentally.
Her skin burned with the fever. Her breathing was strained. Her death was not at hand, but it lurked closer than I liked.
I didn't believe that an apology would cure swamp sickness, but I wondered if I owed her one anyway.
If I became the man you wanted me to be, I would never be able to return home.
That thought should have been enough to scare me into resisting her, but instead I found myself gazing at her delicate face, far too sweet and unassuming for a demon's bride. The smattering of freckles on her nose stood out even more in her illness. Her hand remained so limp in mine that I realized I was holding my breath, waiting for each slow breath of her own.
"The best thing you can do for her is simply to be here for her,” Lord Cyrus said. “Every hour, we're changing the cool cloth on her head. It's infused with a particular blend of magic that helps with the fever and also provides her with nutrients while she's in the coma. Occasionally the spell causes the subject to wet the bed, so check the sheets now and then. The queen has told me to trust you alone with her, but she says that you will be judged for anything you might do to her. I'm sure you'll be a gentleman..." It seemed a casual threat.
"I want her to be entirely aware of it the first time I touch her," I said. "So you don't need to worry about that."
"I'll check in frequently," Lord Cyrus said. "Ring the bell if you need me."
He left me all alone with Jenny. I kept holding her hand. The quiet of the room quickly started to feel oppressive. I was left with nothing to think about except her. I didn't think I would have much trouble keeping my hands off of her, because I was really quite controlled with my libido. Over the centuries I had realized how unfulfilling my sexual encounters ended up being, and was less and less inclined to fall into them. The females of Sinistral never offered what I really wanted.
As the clock slowly moved around the hours, my eyes roamed Jenny's body until I knew every detail of her, and with every hour, I began to feel an increasing yearning for her. It was not just her luscious breasts, although they were an enticing feature, and certainly it was not her unruly hair or the plumpness of her arms and legs. She could have been a particularly attractive gnome maiden. She had never possessed the good looks of a demoness, and I could have easily married an enticing woman with legs for days and breasts every bit as full.