Penelope and Prince Charming (Nvengaria #1)(40)
Penelope closed her eyes and counted to ten. She truly needed to speak with Damien alone and make him tell her every last thing she had to know about being a princess of Nvengaria. Of course, the last time they’d been alone, they’d almost broken the prophecy by making love on the chair at her dressing table.
The sensations of that night returned to her vividly and desire coiled in her belly. Damien stood close to her now, his hand gripping her arm, his breath hot on her cheek. Penelope closed the few inches of distance between them and brushed her lips lightly across his.
The contact nearly undid her. Penelope wanted to wrap her arms around him and let him hold her and soothe her. The assassin had terrified her—not because he’d tried to kill her, but because he’d tried to murder Damien.
The incident illustrated sharply to Penelope that this had not been the first time Damien had been attacked. He’d implied as much to Meagan’s hurried questions, but even more telling, Sasha, Petri, and Damien’s servants had known exactly what to do.
Damien hadn’t been hurt this time and neither had Penelope. Sasha had.
Damien’s eyes darkened as Penelope hesitated. Finally she whispered against his mouth, “I will try, for you.”
Penelope turned from him, breaking the contact. Meagan was watching Penelope in trepidation—Meagan wanted to believe this all a fairy tale come true, but from the look on her face, even she doubted. The other men in the tavern, and Sasha, waited.
Penelope swallowed, her throat dry.
“I will need a bowl of water, please,” she said to the landlord, trying to keep her voice from shaking, “and some hyssop nettles to clean his blood, and lavender if you have it.”
Chapter 12
Penelope cured Sasha. Or at least Sasha swore she did.
Damien and all the villagers and servants watched with vivid interest as Penelope bathed and dressed Sasha’s wound. She rinsed it with the hyssop in water then threaded a needle and carefully poked it into the flesh around the injury. Rufus and Miles came forward to hold Sasha down, but the man meekly lay still while Penelope sewed his wound closed.
Damien held his breath as Penelope eased the wound with oil mixed with fragrant lavender then wrapped Sasha in a clean bandage. In spite of his confident words to her, Damien still feared for Sasha’s life. All the magic in the world hadn’t kept his mother from dying or prevented Grand Duke Alexander’s father from being shot.
“Are you all right?” Penelope leaned worriedly to Sasha while she washed her hands in another bowl of water, brought instantly at her request.
Sasha looked up at her, gingerly touched the bandage, and then gave Damien a beatific smile.
“The pain is gone. I am well again.” Sasha turned to the worried, waiting footmen and said in Nvengarian, “She truly has the healing gift.”
Miles whooped. The servants shouted their joy while Penelope quietly rose, a flush on her cheeks.
She began to tidy up the leftover bandages and things, but Damien put his hand under her elbow and steered her away. Meagan, catching his eye, serenely stepped in and took over the cleaning up.
“Thank you, love,” Damien said, and touched a brief kiss to her mouth.
Penelope’s lips shook beneath his. “I did nothing unusual. Hyssop and lavender are good for soothing pain.”
“I know that, and you do, but Sasha needs to believe.” Damien kissed her forehead, her skin damp with her nervousness. “If you’d seen what a wreck he was when he came into the light of day after so many years …” Damien shook his head. “You’d understand why I want him to be rewarded. He stood by me at grave risk to himself.”
Penelope looked over to where Sasha was letting Rufus help him dress. He chattered excitedly to the footmen, and the lads listened with good cheer.
When Sasha had been let out of the dungeon, he’d been skeletal, haggard, his beard thick and gray, his face lined with pain and misery. He’d fallen on his knees and kissed Damien’s feet, weeping and declaring his undying loyalty. The old fool could have played toady to Damien’s father, as so many did, but Sasha had resolutely remained loyal to Damien during the plot to put Damien on the throne, and paid the price. Damien had rewarded Sasha well, but he could never make up for the fact that he’d been the cause of ruining most of the man’s life.
Penelope gave him a nod, and Damien’s heart squeezed. She understood him like no other woman had. He took her hand, and Penelope laced her fingers through his.
Across the room, Sasha declared he’d walk back to the house with the entourage. Penelope’s eyes widened and she shook her head at Damien.
“Don’t let him,” she whispered, but Damien was already moving to Sasha.
“No indeed, my friend. You did a brave thing and deserve a respite. Resting after battle is the better part of valor.”
Sasha opened his mouth to argue. Damien saw the pale tinge to the man’s cheeks, and his eyes narrowed. “I will make it an order, Sasha.”
Sasha caught the look on Damien’s face, closed his mouth, and gave him a stately nod. “Of course, Your Highness. As ever, I do as you wish.”
No doubt he’d realized how exhausted he was. Obeying his prince’s wishes would help him save face.
The landlord fixed Sasha with a room where he could recover, Sasha retreated, and the Nvengarian entourage escorted Penelope and Damien home, celebrating all the way. The village constable, Damien saw with relief as they rode away in the carriage, had removed the assassin’s body. The footmen, though they sang and reveled, kept a very sharp eye out in case the man hadn’t been working alone.