"Healing well," he pronounces. "Better than expected, honestly. You're lucky the blade missed anything vital."
"So I keep hearing."
"Because it's true. Another inch to the left and we'd be having a very different conversation. Or no conversation at all."
After Aesir comes Mom.
She tries to hold it together, but fails completely.
"My baby," she keeps saying, holding my face in her hands, tears streaming down her cheeks. "My stupid, brave, reckless baby."
"I'm okay, Mom."
"You almost weren't. You almost—" She can't finish. Just pulls me into a hug that makes my side scream in protest, but I don't complain. "Don't ever do that to me again. Promise me."
"I can't promise that."
"Gunnar—"
"I can't. Not with the life we live. But I can promise I'll always fight to come home. Always."
She pulls back, studies my face.
"That girl hasn't left your side, you know. The whole time you were under—she was right there. Talking to you, holding your hand, refusing to leave even when we tried to make her rest."
"I know."
"She loves you."
"I know that too."
"Do you love her?"
"More than anything."
Mom smiles through her tears.
"Then don't let her go. Girls like Ingrid—girls who stay—they're rare. Hold onto her."
"I plan to."
She kisses my forehead, smooths my hair back like she used to when I was a kid.
"Rest. Heal. I'll be back later with food. Real food, not that hospital crap Aesir's been pushing."
"Thanks, Mom."
She leaves, and for a few minutes I'm alone again.
Then Hakon and Ulf appear in the doorway.
"Well, well," Hakon says, grinning. "Look who decided to rejoin the living."
"Heard you got yourself stabbed," Ulf adds. "Very dramatic."
"Fuck off."
"He's definitely feeling better." Hakon drops into the chair Ingrid vacated. "You had us worried, brother. When they brought you in?—"
