Sorrows of Adoration by Kimberly Chapman Page A

because it’s
not your old cot in the inn’s kitchen, right?”
    I nodded.
    “I’ve only known you a
few days, and yet I can predict your thoughts, Aenna.” He laughed
again and lifted my hand to his lips, where he kissed it
delicately.
    He sat quietly like
that until a servant brought the soup, which he insisted on feeding
me himself. Ridiculous, I thought, that a Prince should be
hand-feeding a peasant. And yet the way he looked at me and touched
me and cared for me with such sweet tenderness made me almost
forget how far apart in station we were.
    Kurit wanted to stay in
the room with me all night, but Tash convinced him to get sleep of
his own. As a result, he was not in the room when I awoke the next
morning, but I didn’t mind—it was the first time I had been on my
own since reaching that outpost. How long ago that seemed, and yet
it had only been a few days.
    I kept drifting in and
out of sleep, reasonably comfortable despite my injury. I thought
of many things, but my thoughts always returned to my feelings for
Kurit. He was not what I thought a Prince would be. Oh, he was
eloquent, refined, intelligent, and most handsome, but he seemed to
lack a certain seriousness. He had dignity, and even when he winked
and made silly jests he was still articulate and elegant, but there
was a playfulness about him, a need to be joyous that was not what
I would have expected in the nobility. Perhaps that was why I did
not suspect him earlier of being the Prince. Perhaps that was what
allowed me to fall in love with him despite my low station.
    I found it increasingly
difficult to doubt his affection for me. Not because of the way he
tended to me, but in fact because of how distressed he became when
he was not allowed to continue it throughout the night. Even then,
I truly believed that his reluctance to leave me was not out of
fear for my health—for I seemed to be recovering well, given the
nature of the injury—but instead of a desire to be with me. In the
last moments that Tash permitted him to stay, he clung to my hand,
as though he were being sent away for much longer than one
night.
    So, with this newfound
sense of faith in his fondness for me, I was able to think more
positively about the situation and even allow a glimmer of hope to
creep into my heart.
    The nurse brought me
lunch, and still I had not seen Kurit. I wondered if he was all
right and asked the nurse if she had seen him. She said she had
not, but she would inquire on my behalf.
    After I finished
eating—which I had discovered was a great joy here, the food being
magnificent!—Tash came to check my wound and informed me that Kurit
had not slept in his own bed since our arrival. Thus, he was
understandably exhausted and had been left to continue sleeping all
morning long. Then Tash ordered me not to fret about him. Tash seemed to be rather
fond of giving orders.
    I was tired,
comfortable, and had a full belly, so I fell asleep easily after
Tash left.
    When next I stirred I
did so because I heard the sound of hushed voices in the room. I
opened my eyes to see that in the far corner stood Kurit and
someone who appeared to be Jarik. I first identified him in my mind
as “the Prince” but quickly corrected myself.
    “Kasha will not
approve,” Jarik muttered.
    “I don’t care,” Kurit
whispered with a hard edge to his voice. “She was always mad to
think I’d consider Sashken.”
    “If this is what you
truly want, then you know I shall support you, but—”
    “But nothing,” Kurit
whispered. “I’ll handle my mother.”
    Jarik looked about to
reply but noticed that I was awake. “I apologize if we disturbed
your slumber, good lady,” he said, nodding to me politely.
    Kurit turned to face me
and smiled upon seeing that I was indeed awake. “Good afternoon,
fair Aenna.” He went immediately to the chair by the bed and took
my hand, just as naturally as he had the day before. “I’m sorry I
wasn’t here this morning for you.”
    “You