There is a moment of silence in which I can hear my own heart beating.
“You wish to convince me of allowance into my home?” Nadeje’s voice is calm but firm.
“Under our King’s commands. We are sent here to investigate your property. Will you permit us to enter?”
The way he says it, property, is as though he meant more than that. As though he meant me. And I have a feeling that the King’s intentions meant these two pursuing me for something undesirable.
There is the sound of shuffling feet and I back away a bit in fear that Nadeje has let me down, but not a moment later, his voice makes me stop.
“I would prefer otherwise.”
I look to the door. Realizing I am not able to hear, I move back against its surface.
The only sound left is the man’s voice, which gives me the cold feeling that he is displeased. “Another time is not our task…either we are allowed admittance now, or we are allowed nothing. I would suggest the first, Mr. Gilch, or I will ensure that more are to come if you are obstinate against our positions.”
I grip the door knob and listen intently, trying to catch every word which leaves their mouths.
“The more the merrier.” Nadeje sounds surprisingly unfriendly, possibly holding back worse.
The man at the door laughs, but it lacks humor. “Your stubborn Spanish head has been worthless to the King these passed two weeks, he wouldn’t be disappointed to wait maybe, after all.”
“I am warned.”
I listen waiting, relying on every sound.
“He has always favored you to be in the wrong, and as you are so determined, finally it has become your disadvantage.”
Nadeje’s voice is low and quiet, hardly more than a growl. “I am also on the right side.”
There is silence; it even seems to be in the streets. I realize that even I have stopped breathing.
“And which side is that?”
“The clear side…the one with truth.” It is honest, and calm still.
“Are you announcing your rebellion then?” The voice is cool and dangerous.
Nadeje is quiet a moment longer than usual. “Just a change of mindset…of thoughts.”
There is no question of the man’s displeasure. “I hope you hang.”
There is once more that silence in which I could only hear my heart. Although this time, I feel that I also hear it falter.
Then, just barely, there is a soft growl out of which I make his response. “Leave.”
I wait, breathless and unsure of Nadeje’s unfamiliar guardedness.
“As you wish,” the man’s voice sounds poisonously calm, like he knows he has the better advantage. “Mr. Gilch.”
There are the faint footfalls from the doorstep and I hear the door close and lock. My body relaxes a bit. My mind, though, is spinning with questions. I wait, absorbing the silence and thinking of nothing but the wooden streaks in the door I stare at.
When I hear his footsteps, I feel longing and unsure tingles run through me. I slowly open the door to a crack. I find him looking through the dining room window, swallowing dryly. I wait a moment, then reach past my fear.
“Nadeje,” it takes a moment, but my soft call registers and he slowly turns his head, and then his body.
He watches me a moment. “You heard?” It is a slight question, yet he spoke as though knowing so.
I nod.
He waits a few seconds and slowly starts closer. When he is right in front of the door which separates us, he stops as though seeing something which hadn’t been there before he had been so close.
“Are you afraid of me?”
I watch him a moment, unsure of how to respond.
“No…only…unsettled by…” I want to say, you touching me, but I know it would not be correct. I worry a moment for my lack of words. “Not knowing your intentions.”
He looks over my face as though reading me. “Have I been hurtful?”
I shake my head. “You were gentle…I was just…”
“I am sorry.”
I watch him, not able to think of what to say.
“I was…not in my right state of mind…”
I feel my heart beating and try to calm myself. What does he mean? Was he not sober? No. He was. Did he not mean what he had been implying in his actions? I force the thoughts away.
“Mr. Gilch,” he looks at me regretfully. “You are forgiven.”
He shakes his head and draws back. “I…”
He looks inimical; for the first time I have ever seen him look so.
He laughs bitterly and I feel a little uneasy. “I have just ruined another…” He looks into my eyes. “Breakfast is on the fire if you desire it…I…will be back in…” He watches my face, as though savoring it. I feel myself blush but force my eyes to stay on his face. He shakes his head again. “I will be back soon.”
He turns to leave.
I feel my heart race and can’t help but voice it. “Nadeje…”
He pauses but doesn’t turn.
I realize I called him by his informal name and feel my blush harden. “What did the men mean by…intentions?” At the moment I didn’t really care to know, but it was all I could grasp to make him stay longer.
He sighs. “They meant only that…” He turns to look at me. “Only what I…” Seeing my face he gentles. “I interoperate it as I just have to protect you a little more.”
We wait a moment of silence, then as though seeing nothing here than what he wishes to be rid of, he starts away.
I do not follow. I choose that maybe it is wise to wait to ask questions until later today when he returns. He will return.
Chapter 19
I sit at the table before the warm stove, waiting for Nadeje to return. I can’t help but feel ignored and unwanted, even though I know he is out to scorn himself. Yet, as it darkens, it is harder to pay attention to my book and easier to suspect his return at any given sound, and his further absence to be his resentment towards me now. I sigh and try to keep my eyes on the page, but my mind has other plans of wandering elsewhere.
Finally, it is dark and I am worried. I force my eyes to the page even as they sting and beg otherwise from either tire or tears. I go with the first. I listen to every footstep outside waiting to hear one stop at the door.
Finally, I hear him. I feel some inner release as he enters, but I don’t see him from my place. Then he is there, in the doorway. I look up and I observe his state; he does not seem drunk, there is no force behind his stance, his dress is as before, and he seems to be mild in temper. Of course he isn’t in worse states, he is your Nadeje. I feel relieved and curse myself as the thought enters me.
I remember that he most likely has not eaten since his leave, and I am thankful that I cooked something while I was alone.
I meet his eyes. They watch me resolutely, determinedly, with less relaxed emotion than before, though they are less regretful. I wish though, that the calming nature in them would also return. I glance at the page number, than set aside the book and look to him again, hoping that he cannot see the happy shine in my eyes.
“Have you eaten?” I ask gently. It surprises me that I am able to make sound come out so soon.
He watches me a second longer before he seems to come back to the material world. “No…are you hungry?”
I motion to the stove. “The food should be warm. I have not yet eaten dinner.”
He nods, then steps towards my room…his room…our room?
I feel a twinge in in my heart and wrench myself from the thought. Moeder would be turning in her grave.
He enters silently, and closes the door behind him. I am a bit disordered by his actions, but I stand and put my book on a nearby shelf and begin to take care of the food.
I made beans and rice, and decided to spare the meat for tomorrow, unsure if it is best to go to the market if we were named marks of these unheard of intentions. I set the table, and rinse my hands for eating. I am arranging the napkins whe
n the door opens. I look up. Nadeje enters in different attire. It seems he has wash-clothed down, and I can’t help but let my eyes linger a little longer on him.
I serve myself and sit down and wait for him. When he sits I swallow and hold my tongue as the questions want to babble out of me. We sit here eating for at least a reasonable amount of time before I retry.
“Nadeje?” It comes out softly.
He looks at me.
“What…did they mean by intentions?”
His eyes darken a bit and I feel as though I just reopened a forgotten wound. “They…it is the planning of the King.”
I watch him, sure there is more. “For?”
He looks at me across the table unhappily. “He is just…wants to take you under his control for…something. As I told you I don’t rightly know why I am housing you here yet. My reasons have nothing to do with it. If it wasn’t for the reason of the hierarchy then you wouldn’t be with me at all. By the way they spoke today, I am starting to feel that he has plans…to use you as bait…whatever the reasons may be.”
I stare at him in alarm. I am shocked, the food smells nothing like it did before and I feel sick. I feel only anger and fear as I realize his fault. “You left me alone when you knew…after you turned them away? After he could find out you went against him?” My voice is hurt but harsh. I know I am being cruel considering, but how can I help it?
“I was closer than you think,” he argues gently.
I feel hurt. “How am I supposed to know that? You left me without any indication of where you were…”
“Ms. Thimlet, I was looking for signs that the men who visited here to investigate spoke truth about the matter…”
I frown. “You didn’t even try to warn me that I was…possibly…”
“Because I knew if I told you it would have left you in misery and it would have been no better than it was.”
His voice is calm but it is not what rests my case; it is that I know he is right.
I feel my blush return and angrily look down. To imagine that I thought anxiously for him all this time makes me feel more so embarrassed. I feel overheated. “I…I just didn’t know how to get you if they…”
He watches me, but I don’t go on. “I know I should’ve assured you…I just couldn’t think of how to start…” He sighs. “Start taking care of the situation.”
I stir my beans into my rice and then swallow dryly. “I…understand.”
I feel his eyes on me and irritated I look up. “Why aren’t there others?” The question escapes me.
He looks at me uncertainly.
“When you brought me here you said, ‘help as many as I can’. Why am I the only one?”
He looks at me deeply. “I feel your condition is too complicated to involve more.”
I feel that there is more for him to tell me. “Is that all?”
He looks at me questioningly.
“I mean…your only reason is that my problem is too complex and that it is therefore too dangerous to have any others?”
He is firm. “It was given to me as a job of honor and for my duty to the throne.”
I swallow. “None other reasons you can think of?”
There is a little glimmer in his eyes and I can hear the soft quality in his voice. “Is there more?”
I watch him. “Is there?”
He observes me. “Are you asking?”
I nod.
He sits up straighter. “There are other reasons…but mostly it is because I feel deeply.”
I am left hanging, halfheartedly wanting more, the other half shouting logic at me. What did he mean by ‘feel deeply’? About me, for me, with me…or was it merely for everyone?
I watch him. “You have a large variety of meanings.”
His eyes are full of something I cannot read. “Definition is not one of my strong points while eating.”
I swallow then once more begin eating, though this time, the food tastes too bland.
When finished, we soak our dishes in the washbasin for overnight. I decide to let Nadeje take care of the stove and other smaller tasks and head for bed. I am half way there, when I stop.
I feel deeply…The words mark my heart like ink on white parchment.
I shouldn’t…or…Dizziness overwhelms me, but I refuse to surrender to it and push it aside as I have done countless times with more serious ailments. I swear the wood in front of me in the door is swirling in patterns. Again I push aside the fear.
“Nadeje,” I hear him turn. “What did you mean?”
It is quiet a moment. Then I hear him start closer. I feel my heart beating fast and my stomach flutters beyond any control.
“You may find my definition closer to a demonstration…” His voice is warm and smooth.
I swallow. “Define to me,” I request.
He pauses a moment then speaks softly to me. “Turn.”
I breathe in a little taking one last look at the moving wood. Slowly I do, and as I move, his hands carefully run up and find my face. He cups it gently, his hands settled over the undersides of my jaw. I feel my heart waver and warmth grows where I feel the smooth pressure of his skin along my cheeks. My legs numb but everything else seems to blossom with warmth as he nears. I am lost, unable to feel anything but his hands.
He tilts my face up a bit and I flush feeling the cold prickles creep back into my heart. He seems to sense it and softens further. As he does, something in his eyes, that soothing calm nature, returns and flickers to life beneath the clear surface. He is soft. “Trust me.”
I feel a hush of all undesirous emotions end the pain inside me with those two words.
I do.
My eyes close.
His nose slides down mine, tickling me with its light trail. He breathes one last breath, as though knowing the weight of this, as though knowing I felt the same about how close we are to it, as though feeling the way I do. We are about to break the law, two of the strongest laws of companionship, but we both seem to feel the same way about it. We feel deeply.
He dips his head a little bit more and amidst all chaos our lips touch. He gently remains, perhaps not wanting to worry me. Then he tenderly presses his lips to mine and heedfully brings me closer. I let him, letting all exhaustion go and relaxing in his arms. I am lost as his lips begin to move. I weaken, growing longing-full and completely soothed as he enraptures me. I feel dizzy, delusional, and needful. I want it to be endless, eternal, forever as he wraps me close to him, shielding me from exposure to danger.
I wonder if I am his first kiss, and can’t help but grow a little envious of any other woman who might have been allured by him. I kiss him back, indicating my reliance and devotion to this place in his arms. I dependently hold to him and feel our warmth soak into one another. He grips me to him and I feel oddly in a place where I have been deprived from being for far too long. I feel nurtured and cherished inside as he cradles me in his embrace. Slowly, he gentles and lulls me into a quieter and more soothing interaction. I feel eased. He temperately tells me of his finish with a brief pause, and releases my mouth.
I am unsure of how to be. I look up into his eyes and blush, cursing my smile as I drop my gaze down. He gently encourages me to confront his fervent eyes, and when I do I am immersed in his expression. He examines me, searching me to make sure nothing unwanted has been done. He seems to find nothing, as I hoped.
“Was my definition sufficient?”
I blush and try not to smile too much. I nod.
He smiles a little and envelopes me. “Let me enunciate the point.”
I am undoubtedly altered as he gently nuzzles me. I smile then slowly venture further.
“Kiss me,” I request in a whisper.
He slowly kisses my shoulder.
“Feel my hair…”
His hand obediently combs down to my neck where it presses dearly.
I slowly peek up from his jaw. “Define love.”
He smiles a little and brings me tightly against
him. “Some other time.”
I implore. “Why?”
I hear the warm smile in his voice. “Because you need to sleep. You are tired.”
I argue otherwise. “No, I’m not.”
He smiles and chuckles against me. “Your argument is useless.”
I do not fight it, I know it is true.
He lets go but I remain rested longer. He gently pulls me off and dips his face to linger lovably along mine.
I blush but do not hide as I love the attention. His eyes I find in a few moments, as mine open, watching mine devotedly. He smiles and slowly brings me back close and against his assuring figure. Here I rest, my eyes closed and all senses dimmed with the assurance of safety. I cherish the moment.
Soon, I let his order process. I sink further and I know I should let him follow his proposal. He must feel it.
“Goodnight,” he murmurs.
I wait, just a second longer than needed. “Night.”
He lets go and cordially pulls me out of my burrow in his chest. I look up, and quite unexpectedly begin to shy. I feel embarrassed but utterly care free of the embarrassment. Yet, I shy further. I let his command win and draw back to go into the bedroom.
Chapter 20
The next morning I stand wiping my face by the window, looking for nothing but something in the road. It is early, possibly close to 7 o’clock, but I decided upon an early bath rather than an evening. I step over to the bed and comb through my wet tangles, setting my dirty clothes down at the foot of the dresser. I turn back to make the bed and sigh, finally accepting it and letting all the thoughts come.
I have been desperately trying to distract myself, so that I wouldn’t think of the treasurable interactions we shared last evening, but I knew I couldn’t keep it locked up forever.
It went by so swiftly, I hardly remember what his lips felt like against mine. Though faintly I still do, and the secure pressure of his arms around me.
Nadeje.
I remember the warmth of his face along mine and smile a little. I blush remembering my stupid lovesick murmurs in the end and can’t promptly continue folding the blanket as I try not to think of how embarrassing those last moments were. I cherish them.
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