Page 77 of Foundling

He suspected they shared one of their silent conversations as Leita checked the unicorn over, much as she had him. He wasn’t proud of feeling a bit jealous—if he had to be her patient, at least let him be her only one.

Leita was careful to look at Thalia’s flanks and legs, seemingly worried about a scuff Attalus hadn’t noticed before on her back right leg. Whatever it was, Thalia eventually grew tired of the fussing and shooed Leita away.

Rather than return to Attalus, Leita made herself busy around camp. She marched outside and cleaned his dirty bedding, using magic to beat the sickness and bodily fluids out before heading down to the stream, the blankets floating behind her.

Attalus blinked after her, not quite sure where he’d gone wrong.

Be patient with her, Thalia advised, her mind is quite busy.

That was likely an understatement, given what he knew of Leita.

With a sigh, Attalus accepted that he’d have to get up and eat all by his lonesome. Even Slinky had disappeared.

He pushed down his disappointment at not being tended to longer with a hearty breakfast of meat and nuts. They would need to refresh their stores of dried foods soon or start hunting for fresh meat. His water skein was also long empty, and so Attalus took it as an excuse to traipse down to where Leita was.

Dipping in the skein upstream, Attalus wasn’t subtle about catching Leita’s eye. She made a valiant effort to ignore him, but eventually, the strength of his stare compelled her to look.

Attalus grinned as though they’d just so happened to meet gazes serendipitously.

“It’s good for my soul to see you, phetala. I’ve missed you.”

That blush of hers returned, and Leita’s hands bobbed up and down, the soaking blankets going with her. She managed a nod, although not a long response. “I…it’s good to see you up.”

“I’m feeling more myself by the moment.” Straightening and stretching, he knew exactly what he did, standing ankle-deep in the stream, the bright summer sun beating down on his naked body. He didn’t miss how her eyes flicked down and back again, her blush deepening.

“You’re still naked.”

“It’s too fine a day to ruin with itchy wool. Besides, my scales long for the sun.”

She made a choked, noncommittal sound before turning back to laundering the blankets.

Attalus tried not to pout. Truly, he did. But he was nothing if not determined—and loathed being ignored when he wanted something.

He made no secret of coming up behind her, so when she jumped to feel his chin on her shoulder, he bore no guilt.

“Don’t hide from me,” he beseeched. “I truly did miss you.”

Leita drew a long breath as he wound an arm around her middle and pulled her back into his chest. She bit her lip when he trailed kisses from her shoulder up her neck to her cheek.

“I just…” She swallowed hard. “You were dying not long ago. I’ve still got that vision in my mind.”

His sigh fluttered over her neck. That’s what he feared. He didn’t want to be her patient, to be seen as an invalid. All this time now, and he was still in the same predicament as when they’d first met—he was at best an inconvenience and at worst a burden to her.

“I’m here, and I’ll get healthier every day,” he assured her, “thanks to you.”

She flushed again, but he didn’t think this a true blush. Instead, something about how she went stiff in his embrace told of her troubled thoughts.

“I don’t deserve any thanks,” she muttered, pulling away from him.

Attalus let her go, sensing she needed the time, as Thalia had warned.

He retreated back to camp with his full skein and frustrations. Matters didn’t improve throughout the day, Leita finding various tasks to keep herself busy and distracted from him. Light on her feet, she was a dancer, twirling and twisting, always dancing away from him.

Attalus resorted to doing lunges and other exercise in the shade of the cave, if only to show her how his body was quickly regaining its strength. He wasn’t sure she saw much of it at all, but at least it felt good to move and stretch after so many days bedridden.

By dinnertime, Attalus was downright cranky, and an almost silent meal didn’t help matters. He was pleased to have Leita back with him, but her strange awkwardness only reinforced that, apparently, nothing had changed from before.

Perhaps he’d hoped in that old trite adage of the heart growing fonder with distance. Perhaps he wanted to read more into her coming back and healing him. He didn’t think it was any small matter that she’d cleared away the venom—even for a Fae Queen. He was a dragon, after all. Fae didn’t have dominion over Savrakae and therefore their magic was supposed to have less effect. That’s what he’d heard, anyway.