Can you hear me? Rose!” Rand’s voice penetrated the heavy blackness pressing down on Rose. He softly patted her face and called her name again. She groaned, blinking, a nagging sense of alarm pricking her sluggish awareness. Pain reverberated inside her head, but she forced her eyes open. Gazing up, she saw her brocaded canopy. Beneath her, the soft mattress enveloped her body and her lavender-scented pillow supported her pounding head. Rand sat beside her on the bed, his soft gray-green eyes shadowed with concern. “Praise the Lord. You are awake.” “Water,” she managed to croak. Rand fluffed the pillows behind her back and helped her to sit up. Someone handed him a chalice of water, and he supported her shoulders as he tipped the cup to her lips. She gulped several drinks, causing water to dribble down her chin. Rand gently wiped her chin with a linen cloth, which lay beside the basin on the table nearby. “Thank you, Rand.” She strained to remember what had happened, and winced with pain.
