ATHENA

EIGHT

Torn between resting and sitting on the bed, Leonard couldn't fight his feelings.

   Every time she left the room, he missed her. Every time she came in, he lost his mind.

   It had been exactly twenty-four hours since he got stabbed—his father having no clue about what was going on. Every time the girl came in with food, water or herbs, she intrigued him. The smoothness and brownness of her skin, the depth in her brown eyes, the movement of her body, the softness of her voice, how her every single word caught his attention—everything attracted him.

   Athena, who was waiting for the pot of water and honey to boil by the chimney, knew trouble was ahead.

   It was a big relief to know Eunice was still alive, but leaving her home unannounced was what was going to stir problems.

   She wondered all the sort of thoughts that were going through her parents' head. Joshua and the knights at the gate were in trouble, she knew. It won't be long before her father knew Joshua was lying, and Athena was actually after Eunice in Thestoria.

   It would not be long before her father made up his mind to storm Thestoria with his soldiers. The killing could get to anyone, but not his own daughter.

   The entire thought was dangerous. Her actions could ignite a war. But she could not leave. She knew she could not leave. The prince was the key to get Eunice back home.

   She got the hot water into a bowl, grabbed pieces of clean cloths and entered into the prince's room. When she entered, he raised his head to her—and there it was again. Her heart jumped and flutters filled her belly as his eyes locked with hers.

   That was the second danger. She felt undoubtedly connected to him, attracted to him. And by the way he gazed at her, she knew he felt it, too.

   She walked towards him and sat in front of him—his eyes never leaving her for once. The proximity brought her skin warmth and chills at the same time. The sight of his toned upper body made her stomach tingle. And when she raised her head to meet the intensity of his striking blue eyes, her heart rate increased. Just the sense of him was drawing her closer.

   Leonard wanted to touch her. To feel her skin. But he couldn't. If he did, he would kiss her.

   “I'm here to change the cloths on your wound.” Her voice came out small.

   “Alright.” He watched as she gently loosened the old soaked cloth from his abdomen with trembling hands.

   “The person who did this to you could have killed you outrightly. But he's plan was to give you a slow death. Thank God for some herbs I saw in your garden. And for the honey and alcohol, too.” She began cleaning the wound with the hot honey water.

   He flinched in pain every once in a while. “Where did you learn all this from?”

   “I grew up always going to the physician's quarters.”

   Leonard smiled. “Are you royalty or something?”

   She knew he meant it as a joke. And she knew he had no idea she was the princess of Duwa.

   “You can wear one of my tunics, you know.”

   She raised her head.

   He looked her over. “I noticed your dress is badly torn. You can wear one of my tunics.”

   “No, I—”

   “I insist. It's the least I can do for all the help you've given me.” He searched her eyes. “You saved my life.”