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Her fingers immediately went to touch her dry, scaly cheeks. Perhaps no disguise was necessary after all. She probably looked a fright.

Her skin burnt from embarrassment. The last thing she wanted was to be seen as unattractive to Ian. And perhaps, in the grand scheme of things, it shouldn’t have bothered her so, but it did.

She closed her eyes and swayed a little, as the headache and other pains assailed her wave after wave. She didn’t care what he’d introduced her as anymore, as long as she got to warm up by the fire and then lie in a soft bed.

Warm fingers enveloped her upper arm a few moments later as the solemn voice whispered, “Are you unwell, Mother?”

Helen didn’t know whether to laugh or cry in response. She did neither. Helen looked up at Ian, who was frowning under his bushy, silver eyebrows… He didn’t have bushy eyebrows the last time she looked at him, did he? It was probably part of his disguise which she had failed to notice until now. He was truly a master of disguise.

Helen nodded. “I would just like to lie down now.”

“As you please,” he answered calmly and took her arm.

Helen leaned heavily against him, and they both walked slowly after the innkeeper who kept talking the entire time.

His words were a buzz of nonsense in her mind. She couldn’t concentrate on his words or anything else for that matter. She felt as though she would faint at any moment.

Helen took deep breaths forcing herself to concentrate on the warm, hard man beside her. Although he hunched his shoulders and affected a slight limp, Helen saw through the facade. Or rather, she felt through it.

She curled her fingers into his arm as if feeding off his strength. It sure seemed as though he had enough strength for the both of them. And somehow, imagining that, she felt better.

The innkeeper opened the door with a flourish. “Here you are, Father Ignatius. I hope your mother gets enough rest. Your bath will be brought to you soon.”

Ian nodded and ushered Helen inside the room.

Helen took a few steps toward the bed and collapsed onto the coverlet. She huddled deeper into the shawl Ian had wrapped her in before and closed her eyes.

“I asked the innkeeper to bring us some food and prepare a bath,” Ian said as he kneeled before the hearth and stirred the coals.

“Mhm…” Helen hummed the affirmation.

She didn’t want to speak; the dreamlike state had enveloped her again. And now that she could fully spread her limbs, she felt slightly better. The warmth of the hearth was toasting her back pleasantly, her headache gave way, and she could hear the singing of the birds. Laney laughed as she ran toward her and—

“Helen!” The gruff, but gentle voice jolted her out of a pleasant dream into a cold, tiny, dark room where everything was hard and painful.

Helen opened her eyes and stared at Ian’s frowning face. Why was he always frowning?

He moved the pillows behind her forcing her to sit up. “You need to eat something, Helen,” he said softly. “You need your strength.”

“I don’t eat when I’m sick,” Helen croaked out, not recognizing her voice.

“And that’s probably why you are always tired. Here, have some soup.”

Helen grimaced. She tried to curl her fingers but they felt swollen. How was she supposed to hold a spoon?

Just as she thought it, a spoon appeared out of nowhere and hovered before her lips. “Open up,” Ian commanded gruffly. “I’ll feed you every last drop of this, you’ll see.”

Helen threw him a questioning glance. Was he joking?

He just raised a brow and nudged her lips with a spoon. Helen opened her mouth and swallowed a spoon of chicken soup. She let out a contented sigh as a salty broth and a bit of chicken and noodle passed through her throat. Her stomach rumbled, and she felt her body heat.

“See?” Ian said gently as he brought another spoonful of soup toward her lips. “I knew you were hungry.”

Helen ate a little more and felt the rush of strength return to her. She carefully looked around the room and noticed a steaming bath by the bed. A part of her knew that she truly needed a bath. She had been on the road for two days, and the first leg of the trip was done on horseback, with dust and dirt openly clinging to her exposed skin. Not to mention the sweat that covered her body during the travel which most likely made her truly unappealing.

Another part of her wanted to forsake everything, including hygiene, if she could only get a good night’s rest.

She swallowed a couple more spoons of soup and shook her head.