Read The Outworlder for Free Online Page B

around the door and then,
meeting no objection, came inside and shut the door behind him.
“Yes, but I thought I’d come by and see how you were feeling this
morning.”
    She watched him mutely from where she sat on
her bed, her bare arms hugging her legs against her chest.
    “So…how are you?” he asked.
    A shuddering sigh rippled through her body,
but she said nothing.
    He sat down on the end of her bed. “I’m glad
to see the bandages are off,” he said, nodding at her ankle.
    “I guess so,” she said.
    He raised his eyes to her face. Tears
trembled in her green eyes, and her cropped red hair ill-concealed
the long, dark scab that ran almost the whole width of her
forehead. Jared took a deep breath.
    “Sahara, listen. Perhaps I shouldn’t have
said anything about breakfast this morning.” He paused, and then
added, “If you’d rather eat here, I’ll be happy to bring something
up to you.”
    Sahara’s eyes widened momentarily, but she
shook her head. “No. I’ve been thinking about it, and…and I think
you’re right. I should come with you.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “I’ll come. But…”
    “But what?”
    “But I don’t…I don’t know what to wear.”
    Her eyes locked with his, and he smiled
gently at the raw helplessness in their depths.
    “That’s easily fixed,” he said. “I know that
Lady Aliya had this room prepared for you, so I’m sure there are
other clothes in here for you to wear.”
    “Where?”
    He knelt down next to the bed and opened a
drawer in the base of the platform. Inside were shirts, cropped
pants, and skirts, all in black and white. He pulled open the
adjacent drawer and she saw dresses like the one Aliya had worn the
night before, but these were in hues of delicate green and dark
brown.
    “So it seems you have more than enough to
choose from,” he observed, grinning up at her. “What would you
like?”
    Sahara leaned over and ran her fingers over
the dresses. “I’ve never worn anything like these,” she murmured.
“So soft….”
    “The ladies of the house usually dress for
dinner,” Jared told her. “I suspect that’s what these are for.
Breakfast and the noon meal are much less formal. You know, more
come-as-you-are affairs.”
    Sahara drew her hand back and sighed. “I’m
not sure I want to come as I am,” she murmured, her fingers
un-consciously tracing the long scab on her forehead.
    Jared frowned. “I think you look lovely,” he
said briskly. He pulled a white shirt and a pair of black pants out
of the drawer and tossed them on the bed next to her. “Here,” he
said. “These should be fine.”
    He got to his feet and went to the other side
of the room, where the wash basin sat on a table. As he filled the
basin from the pitcher and set a towel next to it, Sahara slipped
off the bed and joined him.
    “There,” he said. “You can wash your face, if
you wish.” He brushed his fingers across her cheek. “You don’t want
to look like you’ve been crying, do you?”
    Sahara started like a wild horse under his
touch. “So what if I have been crying?” she snapped. “Who
cares?”
    Jared felt for a moment as though she’d
actually slapped him. “I just meant….”
    “I can manage from here, thanks.” She bent
hastily over the washbasin, splashing water up into her face.
    “I’ll just wait for you outside, then,” he
said, hiding his surprised confusion by turning on his heel and
leaving the room.
     
    *****
     
    Sahara kept splashing in the basin until she
heard the door close behind Jared, and then she lifted her face and
pressed it into the towel. It was refreshing, she had to admit, and
she did feel better about the world now that her face was clean and
dry.
    She shed the clothes she had been wearing and
slipped into the clean ones. The shirt was of the same fabric as
her other one, but this one had cap sleeves and a tie that
crisscrossed around her waist and tied behind her back. The cropped
pants had delicate silver embroidery