Second Hand Embarrassment

EMELIA

As I slowly opened my eyes, the harsh light piercing through the small window above me made my head throb. I was met with an unfamiliar ceiling, and my mind raced to piece together how I ended up here. The room was sparse and cold, with stone walls and a single bed - the one I was lying on. A faint smell of herbs and smoke lingered in the air, but it did little to comfort me.

I tried to move, but a sharp pain shot through my leg, making me gasp. My gaze fell upon the makeshift splint holding my broken leg in place. A sturdy stick, wrapped with what looked like a torn piece of cloth, immobilized my limb. I remembered the sound of my bone snapping, the feeling of weightlessness as I fell, and the warmth of Keiden's arms as he caught me.

Keiden. Why had he brought me here? The memory of his piercing gaze and strong jawline made my heart race, but it was quickly overshadowed by the revolting touch of the rogues. My stomach churned as I recalled their grimy hands and the way they leered at me. I felt a wave of nausea wash over me, and I knew I had to get out of there - fast.

With a surge of adrenaline, I pushed myself up, wincing as my leg protested the movement. I hobbled towards the door, using the wall for support, and stumbled outside into the bright sunlight. The fresh air hit me like a slap in the face, and I welcomed it, taking deep breaths to calm my racing heart.

I made my way to the nearest bush and emptied my stomach, the bitter taste of bile lingering on my lips.



As I vomited, my body shaking with each wave of nausea, I noticed Keiden standing a short distance away, his eyes fixed on me with a cold, unreadable stare. I wanted to speak, to ask him why he'd brought me here, or what he planned to do with me, but my voice caught in my throat. I felt scared and awkward, unsure of what to expect from him.

Instead of acknowledging me, Keiden tossed a bottle of water in my direction. I caught it clumsily, feeling a mix of gratitude and embarrassment. The cool liquid soothed my parched throat as I took a tentative sip. I expected him to approach me, to offer some words of comfort or explanation, but he turned away, dismissing me like I was nothing more than a nuisance.

My eyes followed him as he began his training, his movements fluid and powerful. He wielded his sword with precision, each strike and parry a testament to his skill and strength. I watched, mesmerized, as he moved with a grace that belied his rugged appearance. His focus was unwavering, his dedication to his craft palpable. Sweat dripped from his brow, and his muscles rippled beneath his skin as he fought an invisible enemy.

As I stood there, feeling weak and vulnera. I envied Keiden's strength, his ability to defend himself against anyone who dared to cross him. If only I could be like him – strong, capable, and feared. No one would ever be able to touch me again, to force me to do their bidding. The thought sent a surge of longing through me, and I knew, in that moment, that I would do anything to gain that kind of power. I wanted to be able to protect myself, to stand up for myself, and to never again feel helpless.

Keiden's training continued, his movements a blur of steel and muscle.



As I stood there, I didn't notice how long I had been staring at Keiden until he stopped training and walked away, leaving me feeling embarrassed and exposed. I had been gazing at him for so long, mesmerized by the fluidity of his movements and the power of his strikes. Had my stare inconvenienced him? I bent my head, my cheeks burning with embarrassment, and made my way to the training area, trying to shake off the feeling of vulnerability.

The instruments of combat lay before me, each one a testament to Keiden's skill and strength. I couldn't help but feel drawn to them, my fingers itching to touch, to feel their weight and balance. The swords, the arrows, the daggers – each one seemed to whisper tales of power and protection, of a world where I could defend myself against anyone who dared to cross me. I reached out a tentative hand to caress the hilt of a sword, feeling the cool metal beneath my fingertips.

As I stood there, lost in thought, I heard the sound of footsteps approaching. I snatched my hand back, fear coursing through my veins, as I turned to see Keiden returning with a deer slung over his shoulder. His eyes seemed to bore into mine for a moment, but he didn't say a word, simply continued on to the fire pit to begin preparing the deer for cooking.

"Ah!" I exclaimed, startled, as I took a step back, my heart racing. Keiden didn't seem to notice me, his eyes fixed on the task at hand. "Just getting lunch," he muttered, his voice low and rough, as he expertly skinned and cleaned the deer.

I watched, my hunger pangs growing more insistent, as Keiden worked. The sizzle of meat on the fire made my stomach growl louder, and I couldn't help but salivate at the aroma wafting through the air. My mouth watered at the thought of sinking my teeth into the tender flesh.

"Hey," Keiden said, his voice breaking the silence, as he held out a deer leg to me. "Want to eat?"


I stared at the cooked deer leg in his hand, my stomach growling with hunger.

Keiden had offered it to me, but I hadn't accepted it yet. I was hesitant, unsure if I should accept his food. But as I looked at the meat, my resolve crumbled. The aroma wafting from it was incredible, and my mouth began to water in response.

I examined the deer leg more closely, my eyes fixed on the juicy flesh. It was cooked to perfection, the outside crispy and golden, the inside pink and tender. I could see the fibers of the meat, and my tongue instinctively licked my lips in anticipation.

As I gazed at the meat, I couldn't help but salivate. My mouth filled with spit, and I had to swallow hard to keep from drooling. My stomach growled louder, protesting the delay.


“You know you could accept it to prevent your stomach from embarrassing you?”