After that day Lord Evenus helped me mount a horse, I felt conflicted with myself. I wasn’t sure what any of the Lord’s words meant. He said he’d been pulling my leg and hadn’t meant any of it, but the sincerity in his eyes as he said those words to me couldn’t have been something I mistook. He meant them, but in what way?
A part of me theorized it was a warning that he knew how I felt about him. The thought of that made me uneasy and had bile run up my throat as I wondered about how he felt about me. It guessed it was a mix of disgust and curiosity, but as time passed, I concluded it was none of the above. The Lord kept talking to me, and he kept sharing things with me. Nothing had effectively changed aside from us sharing that moment together.
There was another possibility, but I repressed the thought because it would cause me to hope—hope for something that would ruin both of us spiritually. I was content with my position as it was, and the Lord needed to marry and have children to further his legacy.
If the Lord saw me in that way, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.
The anxiety I felt turned into a constant numbness that I couldn’t rid myself of. I spent the majority of the next few weeks doing my work monotonously while praying or thinking of praying. I had lapsed on prayer since I became a resident at the Lord’s castle, but like most people, I ran to God when I was desperate for consolation.
I was praying now, kneeling by my bed and mumbling in silence as I clasped my hands together in front of me. It was late at night, and I was wearing a nightgown.
I asked God for many things. For help with temptation and help with my performing my duties with clean thoughts. The flickering of the candle flame on my desk disturbed my closed eyes, but I kept praying. When I was done, I got up. I looked out of the window in my chamber, trying to gauge the time from how dark it was. Marie had gone to bed, and so had the lord, but I was still awake and waiting for the hour when it happened.
It being Lord Evenus’ night terrors.
The first few times I had gone up to check on him he had been sleeping well, but one night I went a bit later he was trashing in his sleep, sweating and crying out. His face would contort in what seemed like fear, and it was not odd for him to crawl into fetal position and sob. Troy would climb into bed, licking his face and squirming. The first time I saw the Lord in that state it had broken my heart. I had taken the covers off him and had tried to calm him down by adjusting his beddings and cleaning the sweat from his forehead. It lasted for a few hours that day, and the Lord didn’t seem to remember my presence the next day. I kept checking on him within that hour, and anytime I caught him in the middle of a night terror I repeated my actions from the first time.
I decided that it was late enough, and without another thought, I grabbed the lamp on my desk before leaving my room. I shut the door to my chamber behind me before wandering down the hall and walking up the stairs to the Lord’s wing. The darkness was hard to see in, even with the lamp. The snowing had started again sometime last week, drowning the town in snow and covering the skies with a sheet of looming darkness. Having done this repeatedly over three fortnights made it easy for me to find my way to the Lord’s bedroom door. I touched the smooth wood when I reached it, letting my fingers caress the smooth metal handle before pressing my ears on the chamber door. There was silence, but my eyes closed shut and I heaved when I heard a recognizable wail.
It was happening.
I opened my eyes, pushing the door open before stepping in. I raised the lamp in my left hand, looking over at the Lord’s bed. He was still buried under the covers, but he had knocked over his pillows and I could see his head of hair and could hear him gasping for breath.
Troy got up from his position beside the bed, looking at me with eyes that shone green in the darkness.
“He’s in pain,” I said out loud as I approached the bed. The dog moved away, but loomed behind me, watching as I pulled the covers off the master, before turning him on his back so that I could massage his chest. Lord Evenus’ features rested and the deep scowl on his face was replaced with a relaxed look.
I used the tip of one of his many bedcovers to wipe his face clean from sweat—balling its end in my hand and dabbing on his forehead until it stopped shining from the candlelight reflecting on the pool of his bodily fluids. I found myself also pushing his hair back, hoping that his hair not being in the way would help him breathe better. I was about to leave when the Lord took my hand. I winced, trying to take in the pain that came with his iron grip. He wasn’t awake yet, and it seemed like he was in another night terror, judging from how his eyes flickered and how his lips and his chest rose and fell as if he had been running
Out of tiredness, I sat on the bed. Letting him keep holding on to my arms as he jerked and shook in his sleep. I would reach out when he bobbed his head, helping him rest back down again before he hurt himself. Only God knew how long it went on for, but it finally stopped, and Lord Evenus was calm again. He hadn’t let go of my arm yet, and as I wondered how to free myself from me the lord gasped, turning my attention to him. The blood drained from my face when I saw his dark eyes piercing the night.
For the first time since I started coming up at night to check up on him, the Lord’s eyes opened. At first, he seemed confused about my presence in the room, but he didn’t let go of my hand. He only softened his grip.
“I came to check on you,” I started, explaining myself when the lord didn’t say anything. The sound of my heart beating filled my ears as the uncomfortable silence in the Lord’s chamber continued.
“You,” the lord muttered, letting go of my eyes. “You’re the one moving the covers,” he said, and I nodded, not trusting my own voice at the time. The Lord stared on at me before moving to sit up on his bed. It creaked under his weight, and we both remained silent as the master became fully awake.
“Thank you.”
I couldn’t explain how those words washed over me with relief, but they did.
“You’re welcome,” I let out before making to get up, but my hand was caught again. I rose a brow at the master, wondering why he didn’t want to let me go.
“You are very kind,” he said as his gaze grew softer. “You are very kind to me,” he emphasized, moving to rub inside my palm with his thumb. Bile raised up my mouth as my feeling of happiness at those words clashed with disappointment in myself. I had prayed to God to help me with my relations with the Lord an hour to two ago and being caught in his chamber and having my hand caressed with just gentleness felt like a cruel jest to play on me.
“Please stay, don’t leave.” His words made me froze, and images from my imagination I’d tried to banish to the depths of my thoughts showed themselves. Daydreams of getting touched—kissed and embraced in the most intimate ways possible. I’m sure my face turned a beet red, but the Lord’s gaze remained serious. He tugged my hand a bit, moving to hug it to himself.
“Stay.” He was not pleading now. I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out.
He kept going. “Share my bed, yours must be uncomfortable.” No, it wasn’t but I nodded anyway. The master smiled at me, letting go of my hand before creating space and pulling the covers. I crawled in, holding my breath when he pulled the covers over us and scooted close to me.
The bed was large, there was no need for him to be pressed up against me, but he did it anyway. He sorted out my hand, taking a hold of it before running the base of his thumb over my knuckles. Under the covers I couldn’t make out much, just the glint in his eyes and the scent of him rubbing off from the bed covers. I could hear his breathing, and it seemed to hike whenever he paused playing with my hand for a while. He seemed like he was going through a cycle of contemplating what to do, and every time he paused to think both excitement and fear overwhelmed me.
We were facing each other, and we were inches away. He could touch my lips and feel my sides, but he didn’t.
He just held on to my hand, and when his thumb stopped rubbing my knuckles, I knew he was sound asleep.
Nothing happened, and a confusing mix of disappointment and relief kept me awake all night. In the morning I slipped away to attend to my duties before the Lord could wake up. Troy took my place on the bed, climbing up before lying down beside his master.
Lord Evenus didn’t mention the night before when I brought him breakfast, and neither did I. We both kept the happenings to ourselves, and it felt like we were both afraid—although of different things—that something would change for the worse if we spoke up.
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