Well. That was awkward.
Cerian didn’t even put on his boots. Will he want them? She eyes them for a moment before grabbing them and hurrying after him.
When she slips into Elowyn’s room, Tharios and Cerian hover over the bed whispering while Viala stands quietly nearby.
Rominy and Elowyn look so peaceful sleeping side by side. She’s still pale, but not as deathly gray as she was last night. It’s encouraging to see.
It’s hard to remember Rominy’s life hangs in the balance as well. He looks strong and healthy as his heart beats for both of them.
Has anyone sent a telegram to Mother and Father? They should know Rominy is in danger. Mother would be a nervous mess, but she deserves the truth.
Surely Jonas alerted someone in Levina.
Arisanna steps back into the hallway to speak to the familiar guard where he stands watch over his prince.
“Jonas?”
“Your Highness. How may I help you?”
“Has anyone alerted my parents about what’s going on?”
“Yes, Princess. One of my men sent a telegram as soon as we reached Feressa.”
“Thank you.”
“Of course, Your Highness. Is the prince still sleeping?”
“He is. Prince Tharios intends to keep him that way for the time being. He’s well looked after if you want to rest. There’s more powerful magic in that room than you can imagine.”
“Is that an order, Your Highness?”
The question startles her. She’s never been the ranking royal responsible for commanding anyone.
Jonas looks exhausted, though. He must have instructed his men to sleep while he stood watch all night.
“Yes, Jonas,” she says softly. “Sleep while you are able. You can’t do anything to help Rominy that isn’t already being done.”
Jonas nods. “Very well, Princess. For a short time.”
He turns and strides down the hallway, and Arisanna slips back inside Elowyn’s room, only to stop short.
Stars above. What is Viala doing?
Flirting with Danger
Episode 72
Arisannafreezesinthedoorway to Elowyn’s room, Cerian’s boots clutched to her chest.
While Cerian holds Elowyn’s arm gently in place, Tharios seems to be infusing her wound with some sort of magic.
And Viala stands behind her husband with her arms pressed against his back beneath his shirt.
That...is not the sort of thing humans do in public. Are the Lothlesi so free with their affection?
Cerian doesn’t seem to notice or care, though.
“Tharios,” Viala says softly. “That’s enough for now.”
