A Royal Marriage. Rachelle McCalla

purposes. He dipped a soft rag into the boiled water and pressed it gently against her left eye.

      “Does that hurt?”

      “It’s soothing.” Her demeanor had grown more serious.

      John found himself longing for her to toy with him again. It was a silly thing to fancy, but it made his heart feel far lighter than he could recall it feeling in recent memory. “If you can see,” he adopted a serious tone, “what is it you want to know?”

      The smile returned to her face, this time with an impish dimple that winked at him from high on her cheek. He hadn’t noticed it before because the bandage had obscured it. Now he instantly wished to see it again.

      “I would like to see—” the dimple flashed at him, then disappeared as the princess matched his tone in mock-seriousness “—if the king who heaps such flattery upon me has a face that begs for accolades as well.”

      “I cannot answer that, but you may find out for yourself in a moment.”

      * * *

      Gisela’s heart beat as rapidly as it had at any time during the height of her fever. She wasn’t usually so bold in her chatter, certainly not with near strangers, although in feasting season her father’s household was filled to the rafters with joking and jesting, and several of her brothers prided themselves in their skill at exchanging jibes.

      She was no match for them, but there was something about King John’s otherwise melancholy spirit that challenged her to make him smile. And after her long journey holed up in a ship’s cabin to keep her away from improprietous sailors, she was ready to accept that challenge with gusto. Uncertain as she was about his physical appearance, she had nonetheless long believed that a smile improved the features of any person.

      Besides, when she heard the sadness in his voice, all she could think about was easing his sorrow, if only for a moment.

      “There.” John dabbed gently at her left eye. “The light is not well, but if you can open just your left eye, we’ll see what you can see.”

      Cautiously, taking care not to disturb her injured right eyelid, Gisela lifted her left eyelid until she could just make out the yellow glow of the oil lamp. She let out a relieved breath, grateful that she still retained the ability to see. Then she lifted the lid a little farther and turned her head to the place where John’s voice had last sounded.

      It took a moment for her vision to focus. Then she saw him dipping the rag he’d used in the pot of warm water and wringing it out carefully before turning to face her. Dark hair revealed that he was young for a king—young enough that no gray hairs discolored his ebony locks.

      And he was handsome. As he bent over her, she was able to get a better look and felt a smile spread across her lips in spite of her best efforts to stop it. Had she ever seen a more handsome man? Not with only one eye, that was for certain. She could only imagine he’d look even better when she saw him with both eyes.

      King John’s serious expression lightened. “Why are you grinning?”

      “I can see you.” She felt herself blushing and wished she could think of a lighthearted jab to cover her reaction at seeing him for the first time. But all she could think of was the way his arms had felt around her earlier. Her blush deepened.

      His expression sobered again. “I wonder what’s become of Hilda.”

      The giddy delight she felt while looking at him was quickly replaced by fear for her maid’s safety. How long had Hilda been gone? Gisela realized she’d been so distracted by her conversation with the king that she’d lost all track of time.

      John set aside the bandages. “I’ll go look for her.”

      “Is it safe?”

      “For me to leave or for you to be left alone?”

      “Either.”

      “Safe enough. Try to rest. I should be back soon to redress that eye.” He darted away quickly, almost as though he was in a hurry to be gone from her side.