Truth 2 - Hidden Truth by Cook Dawn

Author:Cook, Dawn
Language: eng
Format: epub

Truth 2 - Hidden Truth

Chapter 18

Strell lay in his bed, staring at his ceiling. He had been in peaceful slumber for hours, but now he was wide awake. Always, at about this time, Alissa would stir, and he would go to quiet her. His body had come to expect the nightly interruption and had woken him in anticipation.

He contorted in a quick spasm as he tried to stifle a cough. Ever since this morning in the practice room with the dust, he had been fighting a cold. Alissa had plied him with concoction after concoction—some tasty, some not— in her effort to make him feel better. He had stoically accepted her fussing, growing more and more despondent. Finally realizing she was making things worse, though she didn’t understand why, she quit. They spent the rest of their evening before the dining hall fire, talking of nothing, until Alissa’s eyes drooped.

Having since admitted to himself that he saw Alissa as far more than a friend, he had, over the last month, subtly shifted their evenings together out of her room as was proper. Most of their free time was spent in the dining hall. It was more of a pleasant workroom now, with her needles and thread and his wood shavings.

A faint smile eased over him as he recalled having found the long, black tables shoved up against the far wall. Alissa had shifted them from their accustomed position while he had been busy in his potter’s stead, covering them with her scraps of leather and cloth. He had quickly moved his own slice of chaos out of the kitchen to join hers.

He was crafting a new instrument. The debt he owed Alissa for returning his music to him could never be repaid, but making himself a new pipe with which to play for her was a start. One corner of the room was littered with his chips of wood and discarded tries. There were the beginnings of several fine instruments tucked away in a basket under the table, but he hadn’t quite got the positioning of the last hole correct. He didn’t mind. Half the pleasure of his work was knowing Alissa was busy beside him.

With her sewing to keep her occupied, the kitchen nearby, and her overindulgent chair before the fire, it was a wonder Alissa ever went to her room. Everything she could ever want was right there. Strell felt himself droop as his depression returned. Right here at the Hold.

Strell dismally tugged his blanket free of his bed and wrapped it about himself. He went to awaken his fire, settling wearily upon the warm flagstones. All day and evening his thoughts had revolved around one thing. Could he, or rather, should he, tell Alissa how much he cared for her?

Wiping his nose and snuffing, Strell slumped as he recalled the heavy wave of emotion that had crashed through him in the practice room as her field went over him. It had been as if her entire being slipped into him, warm and comforting as his beloved desert.

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