Chapter 43: The calm before the storm
"I cannot believe we are taking another walk." Cassian muttered. "You know, after what happened the last time."
Ayla let out a soft laugh, her arm looped carefully around his waist. He was still weak but he was on his feet.
Cassian had opened his eyes again some hours later after the antidote was administered and he kept it open for most of the night. While Damon had excused himself to do other things, Ayla had not left his bedside.
Master Aldric had encouraged talking to Cassian so it would stimulate his mind which was already slow from being unconscious and so that was what she had done, talked and talked to him until he opened up his eyes the following morning.
It was two days now and he could finally move around enough for the healer to insist that he be taken on a walk to stretch out any stiffness in his body.
"Well, last time would not happen again because look..." she gestured with her chin toward the four guards trailing them at a respectful distance. All had their hands on their sword hilts, their eyes scanning the tree line around them.
Cassian followed her gaze and let out a groan which amused Ayla.
"Your father scoured every inch of these woods while you were unconscious. I don’t think we have anything to worry about."
"Yes other than the fact that I am never getting this clearing to myself again. It is now public knowledge."
"Don’t you worry." Ayla smiled up at him. "I will find you another clearing."
They continued walking in silence, their bodies pressed together for balance.
Ayla led him past the spot he had been shot and if Cassian noticed, he said nothing. He just kept walking, his arm draped across Ayla’s shoulders and hers resting against his chest where she could feel the beat of his heart beneath her palm.
"I am tiring out." Cassian admitted quietly.
Ayla looked around her noting the flat stretch of moss beneath an oak tree.
She guided him toward there and helped Cassian lower himself onto the soft ground, making sure he was comfortable before she settled beside him.
"I got you something." She said, reaching for the small satchel she had slung across her body.
Cassian raised an eyebrow.
"You got me something?"
"In the spirit of finishing the date we never got to start." Ayla told him
"So this is a date." he muttered, his blue eyes twinkling.
Ayla felt heat creep into her cheeks.
"Yes it is ... you know what?"
She jumped to her feet and extended a hand.
"Hi, Lord Cassian." Her voice lifted, taking on a chirper quality that made his lips twitch. "Seeing as you are well and hearty, would you like to go on a date with me to the very same place you were shot? But we will be sitting meters away and guarded like hawks, so it would not be a problem."
Cassian threw his head back and laughed then he took her hand.
"Yes, Lady Ayla," he said. "I would very much like to go to the scene of the crime with you and eat some apples if you will have me."
Ayla clasped her hands together in delight. "It is a date, then."
She leaned forward, intending to place a chaste kiss on his cheek but Cassian also moved at the same moment, turning his head toward her, and her lips landed squarely on his.
The contact lasted perhaps five seconds but it sent a sharp tingle through Ayla’s spine.
She pulled back, her cheeks burning.
Cassian’s eyes had gone dark. A stormy set of blue that swept over her face, catching on her lips, her flushed cheeks, the pulse jumping at her throat.
"I have missed that," he murmured.
Ayla’s heart stammered in her chest. "Me too."
Their eyes met and held.
The air between them thickened, charged with something that made her breath shallow. She could feel the pull toward him like a vise wrapped around her throat, dragging her forward, demanding she close the distance again.
Her traitorous mind supplied an image of her straddling him right there on the moss, her dress bunched around her thighs, his hands gripping her hips as she rocked against him.
She shook her head sharply.
Goddess! What was wrong with her? He was a sick man and she was sitting here imagining herself on top of him?
"I would like that very much."
Ayla blinked. "What?"
"Whatever it was you were thinking about that put that look in your eyes. I would like that very much." Cassian’s lips curved in a smile.
The heat in Ayla’s cheeks intensified. She ducked her head, reaching into the satchel with fumbling fingers and pulling out a small cloth-wrapped bundle.
"I brought honey cakes," she said, changing the subject with all the grace of a stumbling goat. "I made them myself."
Cassian accepted the bundle, unwrapping it to reveal a small stack of golden-brown cakes drizzled with honey. He lifted one and examined it.
"They look edible."
"Of course, they are." Ayla laughed. "I can cook, you know."
Cassian took a bite and his eyes closed, a low groan escaping his lips.
The sound sent a shiver down Ayla’s spine that she worked very hard to ignore.
"This is so good."
"You think so?" Ayla grinned, reaching for one of her own.
"Yes, Ayla... it is perfect. I would not have thought you were this good."
"Oh, my mother taught me when she could." Ayla cleared her throat. "Shall we?"
Cassian nodded.
They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes with the late afternoon sun filtering through the leaves above them.
The guards had positioned themselves far enough away to give them the illusion of privacy while remaining close enough to intercept any threat.
Cassian finished his second cake and dusted the crumbs from his fingers.
"Ayla" He began.
"Yeah?"
"I have a question."
Ayla tilted her head. "Sure. What is it?"
He was quiet for a moment, his blue eyes fixed on some middle distance then he turned to her, his blue eyes pinned on her face.
"What did your father do?"