Dream Lover

TWENTY

Byron woke up with his hands full of woman. It wasn’t a hardship. Somehow, in the night their bodies had fit themselves together. She’d made use of his upper arm as a pillow and tucked herself into him most likely as an effort to stay on the bed as he’d reassumed his usual sleeping position. His free hand was cupping one of her full breasts. It would have been a nice moment if he hadn’t noticed the cut she had on her arm did indeed look like it had been infected despite her daily bathing habits. It would need treatment and there were two places she could get it, in the castle, from the royal physician or on the royal grounds along the East wall where the knights and their families went for treatment. There was another doctor in the village hospital, but that was barely a choice at all. The doctor the villagers were often forced to rely on in emergencies was highly incompetent; coming out of his surgical room with only one mangled limb was often lucky. Byron knew several men who’d gone through the knight’s training and then to war for nothing more than the title and his family’s access to the doctors who practiced with in the castle’s walls.

Byron thought if he could manage to keep her from learning there was another, better, doctor nearby that he could get her access to he might be able to get her in and out of the castle’s walls without being forced into a confrontation with his father. Usually when necessity forced him into the main building of the castle, it also forced him into a brief, stilted conversation with his father. Usually they exchanged pleasantries and a few vague details about their lives. At their worst, they engaged in a war of words that had one or both of them ready to draw blades and duel.

Byron was slipping out of bed, easing his arm from under Elle intending to get dressed first so he had nothing to distract him from watching her dress after he woke her. When he was dressed and about to wake her eyes opened suddenly. They opened with the same quickness they had in the clearing yesterday but with none of the fear. She focused on him, noted he was dressed then blinked long enough for Byron to think she had gone back to sleep until, with her eyes still closed she said,

“I don’t care what you say today, I’m not leaving this bed until noon at least.”

“Your arm is infected.” Byron told her, knowing already that he had the argument won. Her eyes opened again, she studied him, she seemed a little surprised and then irritated.

“It can wait until noon.” She decided stubbornly, “Feel free to roam as you please, bring back the strongest purest alcohol you can find and a clean bandage.”

“Why?”

“I can sterilize it after I clean it up as much as I can and before I put a bandage on it.”

“You’re going to the doctor” Elle had started to close her eyes again; her lids hadn’t met before they were open again and glaring at him.

“The hell I am!” she said sitting up in bed. “I don’t know how it is here, but I know how it was when my world looked something like this. If they’re even a tiny bit similar I’d rather handle it myself than let a barbershop butcher chop my arm off or shove a parasite in my body because he doesn’t know enough about germs to know alcohol will kill them.” Byron sat patiently through her rant; something he found easier to do before she realized was naked to the waist and pulled the quilt up to cover herself.

“If we go now, perhaps there will be time to get you a new dress or two.” He offered.

“Why the hell do you think a dress would get me out of bed when an infection in a place with massive chimeras and rapists around every corner wouldn’t?” She asked angrily, and then she took a deep breath, “just once can we please do what I want to do?”

“You want to lie in bed half the day without having s*x and let and infection get worse.”

“Listen, you aren’t worried about my hygiene here, it was second on your list after s*x and you’ve already told me you only bathe every third day. I’ve seen a good number of people by now and you, as filthy as this house was when I met you, are probably one of the cleanest I’ve seen. I just want to sleep. I want to close my eyes and pretend I didn’t spend half the night wondering if I was turning into a sociopath and the other fighting for room on this tiny mattress. Tell me what I have to do to make that happen.”

“You’re already too riled up to get back to sleep aren’t you?”

“No!” she snapped already sure he was right and suspecting that had been the plan all along “Fine, will you pass me my underwear so I can get out of bed and we can go?”

“I’ve already seen you naked, there’s no sense hiding from me now.” He told her holding the underwear out to her but making no effort to get any nearer the bed. She glared at him then came out of bed bringing the quilt with her. When she would have snatched them from him, he held them over his head and out of reach. She jumped for them managing to come within a few inches of grabbing the panties and still managing to keep the quilt. “That was a very good try.” He told her. She scowled at him, then her face went blank, it looked like she was having some kind of epiphany. A moment later, she drew back her fist. He grinned at her. She couldn’t have hoped to intimidate him with her little fists. Elle raised a brow at him shook her head a little disappointed. Then, she hit him hard but not as hard as she could since he clearly hadn’t known to protect his obvious weak spot.

Byron’s stomach twisted into a hot ball of fire he bent, struggling to breathe through the sudden wave of nausea as the heat began to radiate up his chest. Helpless for the next few moments, there was little he could do as Elle swept his feet from under him and took her underwear out of his hands.

After she put them on, she knelt next to him and looked down at him thoughtfully.

“I’ve got a little brother. He hit a growth spurt at eleven or so, loved to take things and hold them where little old me couldn’t reach them. By the time he was twelve he had some kind of sixth sense when it came to blocking crotch shots. It was like he could smell them coming, I had to find another pressure point to jab at, but here you are in these tight pants with your junk out on display you don’t even consider the possibility I might be able to hurt you.” Byron groaned.

“After you tackled me the other day I thought I could get away if you thought I was going to slit your throat, you didn’t even try to duck. I ended up scaring myself more than I scared you.” She mused. “Maybe that’s why I’m still alive, men here don’t know women can hurt them, and of course that means women don’t know either.” Byron groaned again, “It was mean experiment,” Elle admitted, “I was already sure you thought I was weak. I’ve never known anyone who didn’t protect the royal jewels instinctively.” Elle shrugged, “When you get your breath back, since I exploited your weakness, even though you’ve done it to me about a dozen times, I’m going to give you,” Elle thought about it for a second. “Ten, no thirty seconds, I hit you really hard. Okay thirty seconds of payback when you’re ready okay?” she asked. “Alright” She got up and went about finding something of his she could wear.