“Well, Cook loves Cerian,” Arisanna continues. “I think she’d love anyone who made Cerian smile. She seems fond of me, though.”
“She is,” Cerian says as he brushes back a wisp of her hair.
Stars above. Is Cerian in love with Arisanna?
Elowyn will be ecstatic.
The thought makes his heart ache for her all over again, but whatever the queen did to him seems to be holding his panic at bay, for the most part. It’s still there, tickling the edges of his mind, latching on to his fears. But he can resist it better now.
And he needs to fight it. He needs to keep his heart steady. For Elowyn.
“I’d like that,” Rominy pushes out past his thick tongue. “I want to meet Grandmera, too.”
“She’s here. She wouldn’t take no for an answer this time,” Cerian says.
“She sounds stubborn. Like Elowyn,” Rominy whispers.
“All the women in my family are stubborn,” Cerian says under his breath.
Tharios is speaking again, and Rominy tries to pick out familiar words, but the elf prince talks so fast it’s impossible to keep up.
“He’s giving their parents an update and...and a prognosis,” Arisanna whispers. Her tone does little to reassure Rominy, but Elowyn’s heart echoes in his chest as the memory of her voice fills his head, telling him to breathe, and he breathes. If breathing will save her, he’ll breathe.
After Queen Nestraya responds in Elvish, Arisanna whispers, “She’s telling him to speak to you because...because...”
“Because Elowyn is my everything.” His voice cracks, and Arisanna gasps softly and nods.
“I-I believe her words were binding partner, but...yes. You love her, don’t you? Desperately. Until you can’t remember who you were without her?”
Rominy looks into Arisanna’s eyes, but before he can respond, Tharios is kneeling beside him. He looks pale and sunken.
“Is she all right?” Rominy asks.
“I need you to keep your heart steady, Rominy. For Elowyn. Can you do that?”
“I’m trying.”
“I know. You’re doing well.”
“Is she all right, though? She must be, right? I’m still here.”
Tharios sighs. “I’ve stabilized her. But she’s very ill. You understand that, don’t you?”
Words stick in Rominy’s throat, and he nods.
“Elves heal differently from humans,” Tharios continues. “We are very sensitive to foreign debris within wounds. Usually, it’s beneficial as the body detects the foreign object and closes around it while it absorbs and removes the substance.”
“You mean the stitches?” Dr. Fulton asks from nearby. “Forgive me for hurting her. Had I known—”
“You had no way of knowing. We don’t blame you,” Tharios says quickly. “And the stitches themselves shouldn’t have hurt most elves. The healing process would have dealt with them easily enough. But Elowyn’s fire magic is so strong that she’s always spiked a fever at the smallest thing, and if her fever grew too hot too quickly, her body may have overestimated the danger of the stitches and sent her into shock.”
“She’s been running hot a lot lately,” Rominy says, and the ghost of a smile crosses Tharios’s face.
“This is not your fault, Rominy. Please don’t blame yourself. It could have been something as simple as a bit of contaminated debris within the wound that pushed her body to react the way it did to the stitches. It’s something elven healers are trained to watch for in our fire-wielding patients. And it’s completely normal and expected for Elowyn’s fire magic to run hot around you. I will need you to try not to set her on fire until she’s fully recovered, though.”
Rominy pushes through the embarrassing part of that statement to the part Tharios implied but didn’t outright say.
“F-fully recovered? You mean she’ll be all right?”
