71
Jara squinted at the torch that breached the doorway to Rinaldo’s tent.
For a moment, she forgot where she was.
She had been here last while Rinaldo lay dying from all of his injuries. Jara remembered lying on the dirt floor next to him, her hand gently clasping his arm. She remembered willing it with all of her heart that somehow he would live.
“Rinaldo?” she asked the man whose outline she could see in the doorway.
“Astolpho. Rinaldo still hasn’t returned.”
Jara’s heart flooded with dread. She sat up, still groggy. She had been so exhausted when she finally finished all her duties, she fell asleep without removing her boots.
Even before that, the weariness created such a cloud in her mind, she was still having trouble understanding why Orlando had kissed her hand the way he did
