I suppressed my delight at his recovery, in case he got the wrong impression, and avoided his amorous mood by checking his wound.
I was startled to find that it had healed completely, without so much as a scar. I, more than anyone, was aware of the great healing power of the Highward Fire-Stone, but I had never used it for such a purpose before.
‘Is it bad?’ Devere queried, upon seeing my dumbfounded expression. He raised himself to view his wound and was as astounded as I was. ‘How long have I been convalescing?’
I swallowed hard and then confessed that he had only been ailing a day.
‘A day!’ He was puzzled but a moment, before he realised the truth. ‘You wasted the Food of Life on me?’ Devere asked, lowering his voice.
‘You would have died otherwise.’ I defended my course of action and stepped away from him as my emotions unexpectedly overpowered me.
The look on his face was most disturbing; it was as if he could see straight through me and into my heart. ‘My Lady du Lac, you are not as cold as—’
His eyes suddenly glazed over and my patient fell back into a horizontal position once more.
‘Devere?’ I approached and knelt beside him, confused as to what was happening.
‘Shhh!’ he urged me, his eyes fixed straight ahead.
At this moment I recognised his behaviour; this was the same reaction that the priestess of my order had when she consumed the Food of Life. I had not thought that the sacred nature of his bloodline might enhance the reaction of the cure I had administered.
He then closed his eyes, disappearing into a euphoric state, and did not move or say a word for several hours.
During this time I arranged for some food to be brought to the captain’s cabin where Devere was recovering, and I passed my time penning an account of recent events.
‘Are you writing about me?’
Devere startled me from my work and I looked aside to find him coherent. ‘Perhaps.’
‘I’ll wager that your account is far more favourable than those you have penned about me over the past few months.’
I ignored his accusation and fetched the tray of food. ‘How are you feeling now?’ I inquired, placing the tray at his bedside.
‘Better than I have in my whole life,’ he said in delight, sliding into an upright position so that he might lean against the carved wooden bedhead to support himself. ‘Or at least I will once I have eaten something substantial.’
I allowed my patient to tuck into his meal and I went back to penning my account. However, my mind was distracted as I was dying to know what Devere had divined over the past few hours.
‘You could just ask me what you wish to know, although I’m not sure that you will like the response,’ he commented, as he finished up the meal and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.
His words were somewhat shocking. Could he read my mind now? I had found that I possessed this ability temporarily after partaking of the Highward Fire-Stone at sacred rites. ‘What have you foreseen?’ I ventured to ask despite his warning, which had only heightened my curiosity.
‘I believe there might be another reason why you and I have been thrown together for this quest,’ he began openly, and then seemed undecided about how to proceed. ‘You feel this reason at a soul level, but because of your beliefs you choose to ignore it.’
I stood, shocked and offended by his implication. ‘Don’t be vile.’
‘See, you do feel it.’ He casually drove home his point, and I felt compelled to leave his presence and not be drawn into his seductive argument.
‘I thought that we had grown beyond this subject matter.’ I collected my writing materials and made for the cabin door. ‘It is very disappointing to be proven wrong.’
‘Oh, don’t worry,’ Devere added, a little spitefully. ‘Our love shall never be realised. Not so much as a single kiss shall you ever give me. I know that to submit would destroy everything you have worked your whole life to achieve and I will take steps to curtail my feelings and bring them in check. However…you will be the death of me.’
The claim brought me to a halt, and I did an about-face to assess how serious he was.
‘That inevitability has been made heartbreakingly plain, I’m afraid.’
The emotions that fired up my being made me want to cry, but why? Was it the sheer abandon I heard in his tone, which seemed to indicate he had nothing left to live for and thus death scared him not? Was it because my heart was in sympathy with his claims, and I dared not admit it, even to myself? Was it that I feared Rex Mundi was just playing games with my conscience and I was falling into his trap? ‘If you feel anything at all for me, you shall never speak of such things to me ever again,’ I said. I didn’t want to have to hate Devere, for I did not. But I could not consider his feelings about me either.
‘I would not have spoken of them now, but you asked,’ he replied.
This conversation was just exhausting, for indeed I had. But could I trust him never to broach the subject again?
‘I shall be as a brother to you from now on,’ he assured me before I even had the chance to try and phrase my question.
‘Very good.’ I took a deep breath to calm myself. ‘I shall hold you to your word.’ I opened the door and stepped into the corridor that led to the galley and deck.
