She shook her head hard, loose red strands whipping about. “No, no, don’t tell me that! It’s important enough for you to say, like that, when I ask what you want … no. I will concern myself. You are,” she stumbled, “you are my husband for this week and your hurts are my hurts. I wish for you to wish for somehing more than a place to sleep and a full belly.”
The young knight smiled, kissing her cheek. “I appreciate the concern, my lady, but truly, the past is the past, and although it may come back to haunt us it is now no concern of ours in the present.”
Summer turned her head, trying to catch his mouth again, but missed. “Then you must answer the question again. Do you want nothing for yourself? Just now, right now.” Her gaze roamed his face, searching for she knew not what. “Tell me,” she whispered.