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ness carried me
down.
I woke up there in his bed, feeling weak and dizzy. The sheets
were stiff under me, and I knew it was my blood which had made them
so. I hadn't died then, but I'd lost a lot of blood, or I wouldn't be
so faint. I tried to sit up, but the room swirled around and blackness
threatened again.
By the sun through the window, I knew it was near noon. I had
to have something to drink to replace all the blood I'd lost. I tried
again to sit up, but couldn't. I slumped back against the pillows.
Then the door opened. I stared, not believing it. My master
was coming toward me, with a tray containing food and drink. He smiled
at the look on my face.
"You look like you're seeing a ghost," he said cheerfully.
"It's daylight out. You're not --" I stopped.
He sat down on the side of the bed, and lifted my head,
holding a cup to my lips. I drank thirstily. It was the herbal tea,
thick with honey.
"No, I'm not," he said when he took the empty cup away.
"Thanks to you."
"Me?" I whispered.
"Yes, you," he said tenderly. "You loved me enough to risk
your very life for me. And when I felt that love washing through me as
I kissed you, the hatred and bitterness all washed away, and the beas
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