Then a twitch of a smile appeared on his lips. “So, now I see why my children are taken with you. You are different with your green eyes and auburn hair. You are respectful, but can also withstand much scrutiny without flinching. I like that. You will stay. See to it, Anaya.”
“Yes, Father.” She faced Cahri, “Come.” She led the way to another room. “Sit, please, Cahri. I must tell you what your duties will be.”
Cahri sat and waited. She scanned the room. Dark colors and no frills, but she loved it. It was warm and inviting. The chairs asked to be cuddled in to read the many books lining the shelves of two of the walls. The third wall consisted of windows covered by cream sheers and flanked by a deep blue set of drapes. Paintings of various garden scenes covered the last wall. She peered closer and recognized the garden she’d walked through every day.
She sighed and wished she could sit here and rest for a little while. Her mind flitted from one thought to another, and she needed to relax a little.
****
Anaya sat without speaking for a few minutes as Cahri examine the room.
God, I pray my father is right and this will bring Cahri and Josiah together and not push them apart. This is a hard thing I am going to be asking my friend to do. Help her.
“Your assignment is to take care of the prince. I know you have strong feelings for him, but I also know since you are not a normal servant, he cannot bully you. He’s woken once and was quite rude to the servant girl who tended him, sending her from the room in tears, so be prepared.”
She took a deep breath, fortifying herself, and continued. “His injuries are not extensive, nor life threatening, which is why he is here instead of in the hospital. The doctor is a local one and excellent at his job. He can be here within a moment’s notice if necessary, since he will be in the palace for a few days.
“Josiah has several bruised ribs, a broken leg, a broken arm, and a slight concussion. Those are his major injuries. He also has many scrapes and bruises. While not significant, they do cause him some minor pain and irritation. Your job is to try to keep him comfortable. While it sounds like an easy job, it’s not. He’s not an easy patient. He becomes irritable when he's in pain and also when he's bored.”
Cahri’s face seemed serene, but her gaze flitted from object to object, never focusing on one thing. Anaya hoped she was at least listening.
“My brother loves God and strives to always do right, but he is still human and doesn't always hold his temper well. Right now he is on a strong painkiller, which helps him rest.” Cahri’s gaze settled on something in her lap. “Later when his wounds begin to heal, he will be bored. Since you will be his primary caregiver, except for his more personal needs, you will bear the brunt of his irritation. Can you handle it?”
“Yes.” Cahri sounded confident, but her body language didn’t agree. She clutched her hands together so tightly her knuckles turned white.
Nope, not confident.
Her eyes showed fear, but they also held determination. It might get her through.
“Remember, you will take care of everything except his most personal needs, which includes making him follow doctor's orders.”
God, help her. She prayed fervently.
“Since I take care of the servant assignments, it has been decided you are the least likely to cower when he becomes angry or to give in when he becomes sullen and demanding. I need you to be strong.” Stronger than ever before.
“I know you also rise early, which will be necessary to keep him company during those times when no one else is awake. I trust you with my brother's welfare, Cahri. My father trusts me to take care of it. This is your one chance to remain here. It is a lot of responsibility. Are you ready for it?”
“I will do my best to not let you or the king down.”
“Okay then, let's go see the prince. Remember he has many bruises and scrapes, and the doctor has him on an IV for now. The doctor is staying in the palace, but he won't be here long, a few days at the most.”
Chapter Sixteen
Josiah opened his eyes a fraction then closed them again. The light hurt. Where was he? He opened his eyes again and gazed up at the ceiling. His room.
Anaya came over and put her hand on his. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I've been trampled by a horse. What happened?” He struggled to remember.
They'd ridden through the woods and come upon a sandy area. He'd dared Anaya to a race. She'd agreed, but not without arguing about it. The next thing he remembered was a great deal of pain when someone touched his leg. He thought he might have screamed, but couldn't recall for sure.
“Copper tripped, and you kept going. I screamed and he spooked, stepping on your leg. We're not sure how you hurt your arm, maybe the fall.”
“That must be why I ache all over.”
“It is. I have something else to tell you.”
“Okay.” Something about her tone set him on edge. He peered at her. What type of news would precipitate such an introduction? Copper?
“Did Copper get hurt?”
“No. A skinned knee where he fell, but otherwise he’s fine.”
He breathed out a sigh, relieved to know his horse hadn’t suffered from his juvenile games. “Then what?”
“Father has agreed to allow Cahri to be your nursemaid for the length of your recovery. She offered her services after the Bridal March was canceled.”
“No!” He shook his head. He tried to rise, but the pain sent him back to the bed. “I don't want her here. I don't want her to see me like this.”
Anaya stood. “It has been decided. You have no say in the matter.” She walked away from the bed toward the window.
He followed her with his eyes.
Cahri.
She was already here, in his room. Oh, God. How can I stand being in her presence all of the time? You know how attracted I am to her. I never wanted her to see me like this. Incapable. Weak. Vulnerable.
He refused to look at her. He'd have to make her go away.
“I'll be back in a while, Josiah. Behave,” Anaya commanded on her way out.
He closed his eyes. Maybe if he ignored her, she’d go away. Sleep claimed him again.
****
“Do you feel like eating?”
No response. Cahri sighed.
She filled a plate with a little of everything brought for lunch, since she didn't know about the prince's food preferences. After a deep breath, she walked over to the small table beside his bed, set the plate down, and pulled up a chair. While it was proper for her to keep her eyes lowered in front of him, she couldn’t care for him and maintain that position, so she stared straight at him.
“I don't want you here,” he said.
“I know. I heard, but I'm not going anywhere. I have a job to do. Are you going to cooperate?” Bluntness should serve her best here.
His look of astonishment almost caused her to smile, but she resisted. He wouldn’t react well to such an action.
“Do I have a choice?”
In his eyes she saw pain but also a measure of pride, which he seemed to be fighting. His voice reflected his struggle.
“No. You either cooperate or you go hungry. It's your choice, and since your father knows I’m the one taking care of you, I guess I'm your only choice.” She lifted her lips in a small, knowing smile.
He sighed and gazed at her. “I can see your reverence has a limit. I will do as you ask. For now.”
“My reverence is no good to you right now, my prince,” she said as she bowed her head a touch. She stood to help him sit. He refused the help, so she waited. After a few minutes of struggling, he laid his head back down on the pillow, exhausted.
“Are you ready for me to help you?” Her calmness surprised even her.
He glared at her and mumbled a yes. She helped him sit and asked what he preferred to eat. He glanced at the plate and chose what he wanted. She lifted the fork toward his lips, and he closed his mouth and shook his head like a
child who didn't want to eat.
“What is it now?”
“I can feed myself.”
“Oh? How exactly? It took almost every bit of strength you had just to sit with my help. You can't hold the plate with your right arm in a cast, and I doubt you could get much of this food into your mouth with your left hand tied to the IV bag. What do you propose to do, eat like a dog while I hold the plate?”
He glared at her again. “Why do you have to be so… so right?”
She shrugged and proceeded to feed him. He managed half the meal before he was too exhausted to eat more. She offered him a drink and his medicine, and then helped him to lie down again, pulling the covers up to his chin.
“I like the covers below my arms.” He huffed.
She pulled the covers back down, raised his casted arm and set it on top.
“Better?”
“Yes.”
Almost before she picked up his plate and returned it to the tray, his breathing evened out. She filled her own plate and pushed aside the curtain. Opening the door, she stepped out onto the balcony. This would be her only time outside for the time being, so she would take it when she could get it. She pulled out a chair, sat down, and ate her lunch.
After cleaning up, she watched the prince. He appeared relaxed and childlike as he slept. The frown of pain was gone. She walked over and reached out to touch his hair, but pulled her hand back.
She was his caretaker. Nothing more. She didn’t have the right to touch him with such affection. The contact from moving him earlier still tingled on her fingers.
Taking a deep breath, she moved to the single upholstered chair in the room. It was in the corner on the opposite side of the bed from the balcony window. It allowed her to see the prince and the bedroom door.
As she sat in the chair, which was a pleasing shade of burgundy and quite comfortable, she glanced about the room again. She'd always thought people's personalities were conveyed through their decorating tastes.
Who was this man?
The king-sized bed, covered with a comforter of bold stripes in burgundy, gold, and navy blue, dominated the space between the two balcony doors. She liked it. Blue, a shade or two lighter than the comforter, adorned the walls. Navy blue drapes with creamy off-white sheers waved in the breeze.
The bistro type table, where she’d sat talking with the doctor a short time ago, sat nestled beside one of the balcony doors along with two chairs.
It appeared the prince liked to be neat. Little cluttered the room. The mahogany chest of drawers had a family picture and some loose coins and a wallet.
She recalled her venture into his closet. Casual shirts hung separate from the dressy shirts. His formalwear dangled in color-coordinated sections at the rear of the closet. Shoes lined the wall in straight rows.
The prince would have been disturbed by the appearance of his room when she had entered earlier. She had taken the time to pick up the trash and dishes and fold the clothes. Somehow she knew it would please him to see his room clean. He would never know what she had done, which was okay. She didn’t need his thanks.
Cahri had just closed her eyes for a few minutes' rest when the door opened all the way. She stood, shaking off the fatigue, as the queen entered the room.
“Sit, dear. I need to tend some matters in another part of the palace, but I wanted to check on Josiah before leaving. How is he?”
“Resting. He did manage a few bites of lunch.”
“I sense anxiety in your voice, dear. What is it?”
Cahri lowered her gaze to the floor. She contemplated about whether to voice her concerns or not. “He’s not happy I’m here, nor is he pleased with me. I wish to show him reverence as the prince, as he’s accustomed to receiving, but it’s difficult to maintain and still have his best interests in mind. He thinks me irreverent, I think.” Heat rose to her face at her admission.
“My husband and I knew this would be a difficult position, but Anaya assured us you were up to it. You are right, though. Josiah has gotten his way for the most part, especially with the servants. They all love him a great deal and would not disobey him in anything, even for his best interest. This is one of the reasons we agreed to allow you to be his caretaker. He is in need of a firmer hand than any of the servants would give. You must stand firm. He is strong-willed and will fight you a great deal of the way, but he is a good boy, and he loves God.”
She pushed the stray lock of hair off of his forehead with a mother’s gentleness. The same lock Cahri dared not touch earlier. She sighed to herself.
The queen straightened and left the room without another word. Cahri returned to her seat. This was going to be harder than she first imagined. Not being able to touch him with affection would be hard. Continuing to hide her strong feelings for him would be the most difficult part of all.
Chapter Seventeen
Cahri let her thoughts wander wherever they wanted and soon fell asleep in the chair. She dreamed about being the prince's wife and, instead of receiving his wrath and irritation, she had his love and respect.
When she woke, she peered at the clock and realized over an hour had passed. She twisted to look at the prince, remembering her dream, not imagining he would be awake and watching her. Before he could see how vulnerable the dream made her feel, or how much she already cared for him, she averted her gaze. She took control of her heart, steeled her resolve to do this, sat up, and shifted to look at him.
“Do you need something, my prince?”
Prince Josiah just watched her with those penetrating eyes of his. Even with her guard up, the wall she'd erected around her heart started crumbling under his scrutiny. She lowered her eyes. She wasn't ready for him to see everything, maybe she never would be.
“Why do you look away, now, when earlier you were so bold?”
“Earlier it was about taking care of you to the best of my ability. The care entrusted to me by Anaya and your parents. Now it's about my peace of mind. When you stare at me that way, I feel as if you can see far more than is good for me.”
“Ah, so you are afraid of me.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Afraid of you? No,” she said with conviction. She wasn't afraid of him, but of herself, of how wayward her heart had already become. How much he could hurt her without ever knowing caused her fear.
“But you are afraid of something. I can see it without even looking into your eyes. I have become good at seeing what others try to hide. Your hands tremble, and you are watching me without looking at me. Something about me makes you nervous, but you still manage to stand up to me when I give you a hard time.”
“I have been given the responsibility to care for you even when you don't want me to. If it means standing up to your temper tantrums, then so be it.” She stared him in the eye, since the conversation had moved to safer ground. “Anaya warned me you would not be a good patient.” She lifted one corner of her mouth in a half-smile.
“Hmmph. She would.” He grimaced as he tried to shift in the bed.
She moved to his side. “Do you need something? Are you uncomfortable?”
“Leave me.”
“No.”
He stared at her, indignation written all over his face. “Call Waseem. I need his assistance.”
“The only assistance you will get is mine, unless you have to tend to personal matters. And don't you dare lie to me because you are not the only person with the ability to read beyond the obvious. And Waseem will tell me, if I ask. Do you still need me to get him?”
“No.” He grunted and faced away from her.
“Then what do you need?” She clenched her fists to keep from venting her frustration.
“Nothing.”
“You lie and it is unbecoming. I am here to stay until you have recovered, which is going to take a while. I will be doing everything for you except bathing you and taking you to the bathroom, so you may as well get used to it and deal with it. I can be stubborn too, and since right now I contro
l the food and everything else, you best be a bit more cooperative.” Oh dear. She’d done it now. When would she learn to control her temper and her tongue?
She expected the prince to rebuke her, but instead he just stared at her as she spoke and then grunted and twisted his gaze away again. Reaching for his hand, she held it with gentleness until he shifted to look at her again. The risk of offending him even more crossed her mind, but she couldn't help herself. She hated seeing him in pain or uncomfortable.
She ignored the sensation running from his hand to her heart. Dropping to her knees beside his bed, she made herself lower than him. “My prince, I wish to make your recovery easier. I am here to serve you, but I need to know your needs before I can fulfill them. Please don't fight me so. Let me help you.” She hoped a different tactic would win his approval and his cooperation.
He glanced at her for a few seconds and then at their hands and then back to her. Heat rushed to her face. She released his hand and dropped her arms to her sides. As she sat back on her heels, she dropped her gaze to the floor. “I'm sorry. I should not have done that. Please forgive me.”
She rose and walked away without looking at him again.
“Cahri?”
“Yes, my prince?” Her voice quivered. She didn't turn back. She’d let herself go too far. Her love for him overruled common sense and broke the separation of her servitude and his royalty. How stupid could she be?
“I'm quite uncomfortable. Could you help me readjust a little, maybe sit up for a time?”
“Yes, my prince.” She helped him adjust. “Would you like a drink, a book? Something else to eat, maybe?” Her voice trembled. This man did things to her, and he didn't have a clue.
“Nothing, just to sit is enough for now.” He paused, and then said with a gentle voice, “Cahri, look at me.”
One Choice Page 11