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Chapter Thirteen

I surfaced into the morning heavily, my eyes reluctant to open and my body reluctant to leave sleep. Aurien was not in bed with me. I had slept late, and he had risen without me. I could hear his voice in the main chamber of the tent, speaking quietly in Fae. I heard Ashara respond and felt my heart tighten.

I pulled my exhausted body up to sitting, swinging my feet to the ground, and sat there a moment, fighting a wave of dizziness and nausea. Was I sick? More importantly, was I going to be sick? I swallowed laboriously, trying to hold my rebelling stomach in place. Dizziness and nausea subsided, and I stood, wondering at the strange and persistent illness that had been bothering me.

I pulled on the tunic dress of the day before, slowly buttoning the front, and hesitated against the tent flap. They were no longer speaking. What did that mean? What would I walk out into? What would I do if they were kissing or worse? I closed my eyes, st

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