Read World Kingdom Warrior (3 Kingdoms - Book 0.5) Page 2

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  Five years ago, he woke up half-dead after a brutal battle with cloud shamans. The red tulip was the first thing he saw. The second thing he saw was Sei, only at that time he hadn’t known her name.

  She didn’t immediately notice he was awake. Her dark eyes were intent on the book with the red tulip. She read aloud to him. Her voice was like music. It traveled down the length of his spine and sent tingles through him.

  He stared at her lovely eyes in bewilderment, letting the melody of her voice roll over him. How had he gone from the battle with cloud shamans, surrounded by smoke and fire and death, to lying in a clean bed with a beautiful woman reading poetry to him? He’d never even met a woman who liked poetry. The sight was oddly beautiful.

  “Hello?” he said, not sure what else to say.

  She jumped, the book falling to the floor.

  “You’re awake!” she exclaimed, her cheeks coloring. “I . . . Would you like some water?” She leaped for the ceramic cup and pitcher beside the bed.

  He stared at her, marveling at her graceful movements.

  “Sorry about the poetry,” she said, not looking at him as she filled the cup. “You were unconscious, so I didn’t think you’d mind. I didn’t expect you to wake so soon.” She laughed, the sound forced and nervous. “You took a good blow to the head in that shop.”

  The shop. The tanner’s shop. The shaman had killed the tanner and had been in the process of stealing his tools when Yi found him.

  He reached up and touched the bandage wrapped around his head. A lightning blast had grazed the top of his scalp. He probed at the wound, grunting at the pain.

  “Careful!” She reached out, grabbing his wrist lightly. “You’re not healed yet. Best not to touch the bandages. You nearly died.”

  As he gazed at her, her cheeks colored again and she dropped his wrist.

  “Word has been sent to the border forts.” She cleared her throat and reached for the cup again. “Your comrades are being cared for by different families in my village. We are all grateful to you for killing the shamans.”

  “I’m alive,” he whispered, both awed and grateful.

  “Of course.” She tilted her head at him with a smile. “I wasn’t about to let you die.”

  She bent down and picked up the poetry book. Yi could not help but notice the way her thumb ran lovingly over the bright-red tulip.