THE HEALING HEART: Military and Pregnancy Romance

by Zelda Clemens

“Always thinking of me. You know this is why I love you right?”

  I smiled at the word. “And this is why I love you too. Always on my mind, Diana Richards.”

  THE END

  Another bonus story is on the next page.

  Bonus Story 3 of 44

  Medieval Love

  Description

  Two friends Roslyn and Wade did their best to hide their attraction to one another as they prepare for a rebellion against the standing king. After suffering a panic attack, Wade gets his first peek at what Roslyn has been hiding underneath her masculine attire.

  Wade followed the trail of her outstretched arm, his mouth watering at the thought of tasting her. He finished the song, wishing he was the breath with which she recited the words. He ran his fingers down the curtain, images of her skin causing his heartbeat to triple in speed. He stepped out of her line of sight just before she turned around.

  A panic attack, a bar fight, and an awe inspiring speech contribute to their feelings for each other, strengthening their bond and attraction. A night of passion awaits them, but the King has other plans.

  After a horrid encounter with the King’s guards, the couple acquires a negotiation, where they secure new rights for the people in their village, in addition, to acknowledging the royal blood flowing through Wade’s veins.

  Upon realizing Roslyn is the source of his strength, Wade declares his love for her.

  This love is the romantic story of surviving love’s battlefield. The saying is true, “best friends make the best lovers.”

  *****

  BANG.

  Flakes of metal flew through the air before showering the ground.

  BANG. BANG.

  Hands tightened around the handles of swords, feet circling around each other. Guttural grunts and hisses filled the environment, crows voicing their approval, leaves applauding in the wind. They wanted to see a good battle and the one they were witnessing proved to be worthy. One of the swords made a swift down slice, the tip narrowly missed its target, catching the extra fabric. It dragged across the dirt, leaving a brownish dust behind. A forearm mopped sweat from a forehead, a drop off sweat surviving, making its way down the pronounced bridge of a nose. It peaked over the edge of the lip, trying to get a sense of the drop to the ground. It lingered there. Without warning, the tip of a tongue swept into the awaiting mouth, another causality of war.

  BANG.

  The clash between the swords resembled thunder, the sun’s beams bouncing off the metal creations imitating lightning. A blocked horizontal slash. A counter stab to the torso. Leg sweep. Back step and attack. It was a coordinated dance; the position of lead changing hands with each passing second. Every move was countered, each step matched; even the breaths taken were in sync. Up slice. Spin and slash. Duck, side step, stab. Down slice. Backhand horizontal slice.

  Both bodies straightened, their chests heaving. One sword rested on a shoulder, the other becoming intimate with the ground. Intent stares studies each other, single head nods following after, acknowledging the prowess of the other. They closed the distance between each other until they were face to face. Sweat speckled the foreheads, leaving bits of salt behind where it had already evaporated. Silence remained between them. Even the crows remained quiet. A hand was offered, the other grabbing it with a good grip. Laughter ensued.

  “You’re getting better,” Roslyn complimented.

  “You took it easy on me.”

  “I did not,” Roslyn kept her eyes to the ground, the dimple in her cheek giving away her dishonesty.

  Wade grabbed her arm, stopping her stride. “You know I hate when you do that.”

  “I had good reason My Lord; you’re still recovering from injury.”

  “So, and stop calling me that.”

  “You’re royalty, Wade.”

  “No, I’m not. If I were, I’d be living in the castle instead of in the village with you.”

  Roslyn narrowed her gaze, scowling at him out the corner of her eye.

  “I didn’t mean it like that Rosie.”

  She didn’t offer a retort, pushing past him as she made her way across the field. The sounds of the city spilled into her ears, the Scarborough festival in full swing. Her mood shifted as the smell of freshly baked bread wafted into her nose, the yeast in the air toying with her sinuses, a sneeze following not too long after. Feigning anger, she rejected his handkerchief, opting to use her sleeve instead. She ignored his apologies as she zigs zagged through the crowd in search of a place to seat. The adrenaline from the match was beginning to wear off, exhaustion taking its place. After finding a table in a pop-up tavern, she kicked off her shoes and massaged her feet, Wade setting off to get drinks.

  Upon returning, he offered her a mug, only to snatch it back.

  “Stop being an asshole, Wade. I need it. My legs are killing me.”

  “Are you still mad at me?” he asked. He hid the mug in his armpit.

  “I don’t even want it anymore. I’m gonna head home.” As she went to stand, pain shot through her right leg, sending her crashing back into the chair.

  Wade handed the mugs to a random patron before sitting in the chair opposite of her. Guilt overtook him as he noticed a red splotch near her calf. He fished his knife from his pocket and pulled it open with his teeth. He cut the pant leg until he revealed the middle of Roslyn’s thigh.

  “What the hell?” she protested, trying to cover as much skin as she could.

  “I cut you.”

  “I know.”

  “Earlier,” he scoffed. “It’s not bad, but you might need stitches.”

  “Stitches?”

  “I can do it at my house.”

  Roslyn winced as she reclaimed her leg. Using the table, she pulled herself to her feet, the majority of her weight on her right foot. Again, ignoring him, she hobbled past him, making her way into the overcrowded streets. His calls soon became lost in the nonstop noise, the outline of the tavern broken up by the multitude of various frames. She kept her eyes on the ground, stepping on shoes, canes, and staffs as they appeared in her vision. Her flapping pant leg caught her attention, the focus placed on the wound amplifying the pain. Nausea twisted her stomach as her eyes followed the blood trails down her leg, which disappeared into her sock.

  All I have to do is make it home. I can take care of it when I get home.

  She pressed on. Ten minutes into her walk, her right calf began cramping. She cursed the muscle as she looked to a place to rest. The blaring horns and disjointed conversations threw her into a fit of confusion. Her eyes darted left and right, her orientation off. The world around her began spinning, her heart beating in an irregular fashion. Anger mixed with frustration as she spun in circles. She was supposed to have gotten over this.

  Why am I reacting like this?

  Anxiety caused her blood to rush in her ears, the sound similar to waves crashing against the jagged rocks lining the shore. The theriac the doctor prescribed was supposed to cure her. A pain stung her chest, her vision growing blurry. She felt her body sway, her hands grasping at something to hold her up. Her temples pounded and her forehead was warm to the touch. Her hands became numb and she could no longer feel her legs. She stumbled back, catching death glares from the people she bumped into. “I’m…I’m so –

  Darkness.

  *****

  Roslyn’s eyes fluttered open, the sunlight flooding through the window causing them to burn. She rubbed the exhaustion and blur away while observing her environment. After a few minutes of inspection, she hadn’t recognized where she was.

  “Hello,” she croaked. Her throat stung as she attempted to clear it. As she ventured further into reality, her senses began to pick up subtle sounds, sights and smells. She inhaled the pungent scent of hot coals; the rough sheets making her skin itch. She looked left and right, noticing the overall drab décor. It wasn’t until she looked down that she realized she was naked.

  “I hope you’re – Wade covered his eyes, the tray of
food he carried crashing to the ground. “I’m sorry. I didn’t…”

  Roslyn pulled the sheets over her until her toes poked out the bottom. She tucked her feet under her bottom, her head the only thing visible.

  “I should have knocked.”

  “It’s okay. I…”

  “Don’t apologize. Come to the kitchen when you get dressed.” Wade reversed his path with measured steps, his hands still covering his eyes.

  She snickered as he hopped up and down, cursing the vanity and his clumsiness. He bent down, searching for the tray, not realizing he kicked it under the dresser. “Can you –

  “Got it.”

  “Thanks.”

  Once he was gone, she took a moment to take in the various colors streaking across the sky. The beauty wasn’t enough to hold off the blots of the morning’s disaster. Her temples throbbed as the memories surfed through her mind. The embarrassment came over her as she imagined the other people’s reaction. She added several buckets to the makeshift bath before allowing the sheet to fall to the floor. She stepped back, giving herself a maximum view. She admired her muscles, posing in different positions to highlight her favorites. She ran her fingers over her stomach and down her legs, her youth giving her skin elasticity. She smiled at the curvy hips, tracing the dip in her back. The cloaks and pants she wore hid her frame. She cherished the moments she could bask in her femininity, those moments rare being that she was a part of a newly formed feminist group. It was long before steam obscured her vision. A moan slipped from her throat as her foot adjusted to the new temperature. Tension melted from her body as she lowered herself down. The stone in the room amplified her voice, the steam caressing her neck and shoulders, water droplets dancing in her hair.

  The Wind is thin,

  Sun warm,

  The earth overflows

  With good things.

  Spring is purple

  Jewelry;

  Flowers on the ground,

  Green in the forest.

  Quadrupeds shine

  And wander. Birds

  Nest. On blossoming

  Branches they cry joy!

  Wade followed the trail of her outstretched arm, his mouth watering at the thought of tasting her. He finished the song, wishing he was the breath with which she recited the words. He ran his fingers down the curtain, images of her skin causing his heartbeat to triple in speed. He stepped out of her line of sight just before she turned around.

  “Is someone there,” Roslyn called.

  He swallowed the words on his tongue, clenching his fist to quell the urge to answer. He reclaimed his view after she settled back into the water. He took a last look before making his exit, kissing a towel and draping it across the bed. He looked toward the curtain. He would have his day. She would be his.

  ###

  Different voices shouted over one another, determined to get their point across. Wade and Roslyn kept a close eye on the proceedings. There was no need in allowing a fight to break out; everyone in the room was on the same side.

  Bang. Bang. Bang.

  “That’s enough. That’s enough.”

  The audience’s debate dropped to a murmur before silencing.

  A large woman paced the stage, her feet thumping against the stone, her shirt stretched tight across her chest, her index fingers locked around each other behind her back. She wore a grimace as if stomaching some unseen pain. All eyes in the place followed her, though hers remained trained on the people standing at the back of the room. A smirk started in the corner of her mouth.

  “Why does she always smile at you like that?” Wade whispered. “Is she – he hunched his shoulders and flipped his hand.

  Roslyn jabbed him in the thigh. “No.”

  “I was just asking.”

  “It’s my week to speak.” She laughed at his wide eyes. She wasn’t a vocal leader, her actions doing the talking for her.

  “As you all know, we have a major decision ahead of us. For the past three weeks, the majority of you have taken the opportunity to voice your opinions on the matter.”

  The crowd began to talk amongst themselves, rehashing their points and discussing ones left out in previous conversations.

  “Tonight, we have one of our most fearless leaders speaking.”

  All the eyes followed her finger to the back of the room.

  Roslyn’s steps were silent as she made her way to the front of the room. She had forgotten all the words she rehearsed the previous hour. She dried her hands on her pants, ripping a stray string of fabric from her shirt.

  I can take on men three times my size in battle, but I’m afraid to speak in front of 20 people.

  The veins in her throat throbbed as she stopped in the middle of her stage. Her vision began to zoom in and out, sweat beading on her forehead. Her heart thumped against her chest as her eyes matched the gaze of the different people staring at her. Anxiety constricted her airway, the lack of oxygen causing her to experience lightheadedness. She coached herself through her breathing technique.

  In through the nose, out through the mouth.

  In through the nose, out through the mouth.

  She held up her hand, halting Wade’s progress. One public melt down was enough. Besides, she didn’t want him thinking she was a damsel in distress, his head was big enough already. She recited the breathing pattern once more.

  In through the nose, out through the mouth.

  The crowd’s clamor quieted when she opened her eyes. They landed on Wade; he gave her a reassuring nod. Roslyn cleared her throat three times and clasped her hands behind her back, the position straining her shoulders.

  Ahem.

  Hel, hello everyone. I’m Roslyn. Everyone here has presented compelling arguments on both sides.” Even as she stood in front of her peers, she went back and forth about where she stood. She understood both sides, though the rebel and warrior in her knew there was only one solution. Her eyes found Wade’s. The green irises comforted her. They also helped to finalize her decision. “While it may be unpopular, I side with those who want to fight.”

  Scattered cheers erupted around the room.

  “The royal family is corrupt and they will continue to be until they come across an equal force.”

  “We can’t take on the King,” a random voice interjected.

  “Yeah, he’ll kill us all. I have a family to think about,” another added.

  “I applaud you wanting to protect your families, but don’t you think you owe them an existence better than our current one?”, she asked. She explained how taxes continued to increase, while their income decreased. She mentioned how their freedoms were evaporating under their noses. Every year, the King seemed to be taking a right in the name of security and safety. More soldiers were patrolling the streets, the chances of being arrested for petty crimes or no crime at all skyrocketing. “I’m tired of fighting for scraps, for the bare minimum. What makes his life greater than ours when we bleed the same?”

  She took inventory of the crowd’s reaction, half agreeing, and the other half showing apprehension.

  She was just grateful she didn’t find herself staring at the ceiling.

  “The King isn’t going to listen to our demands. We’d have to kill him and put our own person in the castle.”

  “Then so be it.” The words slipped out of her mouth before they had a chance to register in her mind.

  The audience exploded into a jumbled mess of scattered thoughts. Heated debates turned into shoving matches, which caused the two sides to separate themselves. Just before punches were thrown, Elsa marched across the stage, Roslyn stepping back to save her toes.

  Bang. Bang. Bang.

  The powerful gavel barely made a dent in the deafening noise.

  Bang. Bang. Bang.

  “SETTLE DOWN.”

  Bang. Bang. Bang.

  Wade stood in between two large men, his mouth outstretched. Though his mouth was moving, his words were muted. Whatever he said worked because the m
en’s faces returned to their normal colors, the veins disappearing into their necks. Once everyone had returned to their seats, Roslyn returned to the center of the stage.

  “I know that isn’t the best idea –

  “You damn right it ain’t. You won’t be fighting with us. You’re gonna be hiding with the rest of the women and children.”

  Her blood began to boil, red splotches decorating her vision. “Listen, you sorry sack of –

  “Let’s all remain respectful,” Elsa persuaded.

  Roslyn jumped off the stage, paying no attention to the knees and feet she hit on the way to the loose lipped man. Her finger pointed at the spot between his eyebrows. “How dare you question my heart? Have you forgotten who I am?” She was never one to boast or remind people of the things she’d done. In fact, she made it a point to forget in order to remain humble. “It was me who gave you money and food when you couldn’t provide it for your family.”

  People craned their necks to look at the man, who had long lost his smug attitude.

  “Who fought off the guards and got you to safety after you sunk into the Prince's bath?”

  The man didn’t provide an answer, his eyes searching his surroundings for an exit. As she continued to speak, his chin pressed further into his chest. The more time that passed, the more he became lost in her shadow. It was a wonder he didn’t curl into a ball.

  Once she was convinced he remembered, she meandered back to the stage, her stroll confident. She drank in the fear oozing from everyone’s pores, the feeling addictive. She pushed it to the back of her mind, disgust forming a ball in her stomach.

  That must be how the King feels.

  “I understand if you think killing the King is a drastic move. But consider the alternative. How much more can you take? How much more can your families take?” The questions lingered behind her as she exited to the left, the heat from the working minds raising the temperature in the room. She and Wade slipped out of the door before the meeting ended, Roslyn satisfied with her speech.

  Wade wore a twisted smile as they walked the barren streets.