Free Once Upon a Romance 02 - As The Last Petal Falls by Jessica Woodard

like the nickname?”
    “No, on the contrary, I just…” She flushed slightly, and then smiled before speaking again. “Fain, would you mind reading to me? It would help to pass the time, and I haven’t heard a fairy story in a long time.”
    He opened the book back to the story he’d been reading. “Do you like The Children and the Candy Hag ??”
    “Oh yes!” Her eyes sparkled. “Hold on just a moment.” She fluffed his remaining pillow behind her back, and made herself a comfortable nest of the blankets; then she drew her cozily bundled knees up and rested her chin on them while wrapping her one good hand around the front of her legs. She looked for all the world like a little girl ready for her bedtime story, and Fain had to chuckle.
    “There, I’m ready. Start at the beginning, please.” Fain obliged, and as the beauty settled back against her pillow, she smiled at him. “Oh goody, you’re doing the voices. I love the voices.”

Chapter Eight
    “… but the little wooden boy did not heed the lesson he had learned, and soon was back to his old tricks.”
    Vivienne lay on the bed and let Fain’s deep, soothing voice envelop her in the story. For two days now the storm outside had dropped snow on the keep, and for two days she had lain in the bed. Occasionally she would take a turn at reading, but invariably she would grow tired, or slightly feverish, and Fain would take the book back and patiently read story after story. He had a collection of six books in all, and they’d gotten to book four, and the story of the puppet-maker’s little wooden son. They were nearing the end when Vivienne heard a knock on the door.
    “Come,” Fain called while marking their place in the book and setting it aside.
    It was Connelly.
    “I’ve come ta check yer arm, lass, an’ see if I think ye hale an’ hearty enough ta leave this ’blasted bed.’”
    Vivienne smiled at the little man. The day before, when he’d come to check on her, she’d had some choice things to say about his decision that she remain abed for a while longer. Apparently it had made an impression.
    “I’m sorry, Connelly, but even with Fain reading to me, this is a hard way to pass the time. I feel the need to move about and breathe some fresh air.”
    “I understand, lassie, I do. But it be my job ta see ye well, an’ I shall do it, whether ye shriek like a banshee or coo like a dove.” The gnarled man gave her a broad grin. Vivienne felt like the two of them understood each other; he’d certainly taken no offense to her burst of anger yesterday. In fact, the only response he’d made was to laugh heartily at her tirade.
    Fain excused himself while Connelly opened the splint on her arm and examined the break closely. The swelling was much reduced, and the area around the break was hardly red at all anymore, although the signs of bone-deep bruising were beginning to show. He made a pleased noise deep in his throat, and then rewrapped the arm with clean bandages for the splint. Then he felt her forehead, checked her pulse, and peered deep into her eyes. Nothing seemed to alarm him, and presently he said:
    “Feel alright then, do ye?”
    “Except for perishing of boredom, and the ache in my arm, I feel fine.”
    He grinned again, showing her his tiny, crooked teeth. “I’ll mix ye up somethin’ fer the pain, but I’d say yer on the mend, lassie.”
    Vivienne was delighted. “Does this mean I can get out of bed?”
    “Well, ye might want to see about acquirin’ a pair o’ pants, first, but after that ye can be up an’ about. Just dinna overdo it. If yer tired or the fever returns, back ta bed ye go.” Despite the last warning, Vivienne was so relieved at the thought of finally being free to move about that she gave Connelly a kiss, right on his hairy cheek. “Ah lass, yer a sweet one beneath all that ginger, are ye not?”
    Just then Fain slipped back in the door, and Vivienne beamed on him as she gave him the good news.