And how is your head? Better?” he asked.”Very much. Sometimes it hurts.” Right now it was throbbing. “But every day I am much improved.””Where did you hit it? Are you bruised?”I put a hand to the back of my head, a little to the left, where I had landed with such jarring force. “Here,” I said. “It’s still a little tender.”And leaning forward, he touched my hair right where I had just laid my hand. Such was he glamour that attended him that I expected the ache to instantly melt away, healed by his royal caress. But in fact, I felt a sudden leap in my heart that made the pain briefly more intense.

And how is your head? Better?” he asked.”Very much. Sometimes it hurts.” Right now it was throbbing. “But every day I am much improved.””Where did you hit it? Are you bruised?”I put a hand to the back of my head, a little to the left, where I had landed with such jarring force. “Here,” I said. “It’s still a little tender.”And leaning forward, he touched my hair right where I had just laid my hand. Such was he glamour that attended him that I expected the ache to instantly melt away, healed by his royal caress. But in fact, I felt a sudden leap in my heart that made the pain briefly more intense.

– Sharon Shinn –

Summers at Castle Auburn

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