Page 61 of I Ran Away to Evil #3

Is This Your Bed?

Julian

When Julian came to, the first thing he saw was Gerda’s lovely face inches from his own.

Something wasn’t right. He was lying on a soft bedspread; they weren’t in the ballroom anymore. There was a wooden ceiling overhead, and a window nearby let in the light of the evening sun, casting a halo around his bridge troll.

She wore a complicated expression full of worry. Unthinkingly, he reached up and tucked her hair behind one very long ear. There was blood on her hair; probably his own. Hopefully his own.

“I’m alright,” he wheezed. Julian questioned whether he was, in fact, alright. His chest was on fire, and he could feel himself bleeding through his clothes, not to mention his lungs weren’t working very well. He felt like he was dying. Again.

Gerda pulled back, looking him over. “You don’t look alright. Did I use the Revive wrong? Why—Oh!” She summoned a healing potion, ripped off the stopper, and shoved it down his throat.

He coughed violently when the liquid didn’t go down properly, but the pain in his chest stopped.

Gerda finally gave a relieved sigh and put the now empty bottle back in her storage. “Okay, that should do it. Sorry, I should’ve used a Resurrect … I might have panicked.”

She looked down at him sheepishly.

“It’s fine,” he said, the first thing that came to mind. She was leaning over him again, and he couldn’t sit up until she gave him space. To distract himself, he decided now would be a good time to glance at his notification logs.

[ Guard has activated. Transferring attack.]

[You have successfully redirected damage.]

[You have been hit by a Cold Iron Bolt . Critical Hit 1000 points piercing damage.]

[Warning! Vital organ failure. You are dead.]

[You have been Revived . Health 110/1274.]

[You have the condition Bleed .]

[You suffer 20 points Bleed damage. Health 90/1274.]

[Warning! Your Health has dropped below 7%. Rest recommended.]

[You suffer 20 points Bleed damage. Health 70/1274]

[You have been healed with Greater Health Potion . Health 1070. Bleed effect negated.]

“Everything happened so fast,” Gerda was talking to him as he read. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

He glanced at her as she pulled out a spell scroll. “[Cleanse].”

The spell removed the stains, magicking away the traces of his death. Except for the giant tear in his shirt, of course.

“Where are we?” Julian closed his system window and pushed into a sitting position.

They were in a small, comfortable bedroom. The bed was lush with soft covers and copious decorative pillows. There were paintings of the Dark Enchanted Forest on the wall with a door, and another was entirely covered in bookshelves full of books, knickknacks, and plants.

The opposite wall was curved out to make space for a cushioned bench below three large windows with green and white curtains. Even more pillows adorned the bench.

“My home,” Gerda replied, pulling out another scroll.

“Your—Your home? You brought me to your house?” Julian immediately felt overconscious. “Is this your bed? ”

“I couldn’t very well portal us onto the sky bridge,” she said, matter-of-factly. “[Mend].”

His clothing ruffled and tugged all over his body, repairing itself. The tear disappeared as if it had never happened. Though he was still a bit ruffled, he at least looked like he’d not been dead.

Julian gently touched his chest, feeling nothing out of the ordinary but still sensing a phantom pain. It should fade quickly, as these things usually did for him.

“Why not the bridge?” Julian asked. It would have been easier to clean up the mess and less destructive to Gerda’s bed.

It was a nice bed.

He needed to not be lying on it because that trail of thought was sudden and unexpected and too much for him right now. Julian swung his legs over the side; they tangled with Gerda’s skirt, and her hair fell on his thighs. It wasn’t the biggest space, and Gerda was very, very close.

She tossed her wavy tresses over her shoulder and out of the way, but since she was looking down at him, the strands slipped forward again.

“I didn’t know if there were other assassins in the palace. Better safe than sorry.” She gave up on her hair and put the back of her hand against his forehead, nodding in approval at his stable temperature.

She then moved to fix his collar.

“You made a strange noise before collapsing.” She continued touching him, focused on setting things right and not noticing he was holding his breath. “Shame about my pastries, though; I dropped them to catch you—There we go.”

She stepped back and looked him over. “Good as new. Let me know when you’re ready, and I’ll bring us back.”

Julian couldn’t help it; a short laugh escaped him.

“What?” The bridge troll crossed her arms.

“Are you sure you want to go back?” Julian reached out and took hold of a long section of emerald hair. It pleased him to see her blush from her neck to the tips of her ears because it proved that he wasn’t the only one affected.

He lifted the lock of hair in front of her. It was wet with blood.

She cursed aloud. “One second.”

She pulled out another spell scroll.

“How many of those do you have?” he asked, curious. They were expensive to make but very handy.

“A hundred? Two?” Gerda shrugged. “[Cleanse].”

“You have two hundred [Cleanse] spell scrolls?”

“Not all of them are spelled,” she explained. “I pick them up in treasure chests all the time, and it’s fun collecting cantrips—I mean, useful . It’s useful having all these spells ready to go. Case in point.” She waved to indicate his chest. Speaking of which …

“Where is the cold iron arrow?” It was nowhere to be seen.

“I took it out before I healed you. It’s in my storage, but I’m not pulling it out now. I just cleaned up.”

“I thought we could use it to track the assassin,” Julian explained. It would be easy work for his rogue as long as they had something to connect back to the archer.

“No need. I already know who it is—and so does your mother.” Gerda shook her head and sighed. “Honestly, I’m more worried about Amy.”

“The saintess?”

“As I thought, the man she’s seeing turned out to be the assassin … and, um, you weren’t his target; I was.” She scratched her cheek. “Sorry.”

“The same one who poisoned your drink?” Julian didn’t mind a little death in her place, but if she was going to be so often attacked, then he had his own apologies to make.

The bridge troll shook her head again. “I don’t know. Your mother said the poison was legal … so I bet someone’s put out a hit on my head, and every registered assassin in the duchy is out to get the experience points for killing me.”

“I’m sorry. You never would’ve been exposed as Madame Potts if you hadn’t saved my family.” His hands clenched. Desire warred with his etiquette, but what was the polite thing to do when he woke up in the bed of the most beautiful troll he’d ever met?

He couldn’t just kiss her.

“It’s fine; I was already on the Blackfog list. And I’ll be safe in the North before we know it.” She smiled at him reassuringly. It sent his blood racing.

He rose to his feet.

Worried and aroused, his voice dropped low as he leaned in close enough to feel her breath on his chin when he asked, “But how long are you in the North? What about guarding your bridges?”

Gerda stared at his lips as she bit her own.

He also wanted to bite her lips. He wanted to pull her with him onto the bed behind him, straddling his lap, and kiss the bridge troll silly.