Arisanna looks toward Elowyn’s still form on the bed. The barest flickering of light surrounds her. It’s hard to see if you’re not looking for it.
“Are we ready?” Tharios asks.
“I believe so,” King Lorial says.
“All right. I’m waking him now.” Tharios lays a hand on Rominy’s shoulder, and nothing happens at first.
Cerian hovers nearby, exuding a restlessness he usually only shows when he’s about to run.
He’s not planning to run, is he?
More likely, he’s ready to jump in front of Arisanna should the need arise.
Hopefully, that won’t be necessary.
A quiet groan fills the room, and Arisanna watches nervously as Rominy’s eyelids flutter.
King Lorial nods to Arisanna. This is her part to play.
“Rominy? It’s Sanna. You’re safe, all right?”
“Sanna?” he murmurs in a scratchy voice.
“That’s right. I’m here.”
His eyes crack open before growing wide, and he bolts up in the bed.
“It’s all right, Rominy,” she says.
His eyes look glassy, and he sways. “Elowyn. Where’s—”
“She’s right here, my youngling,” Queen Nestraya says softly. “We need to stay calm for her, remember?”
“I think I’m going to be sick.”
Queen Nestraya holds the basin out for him just in time, and Cerian flinches at Arisanna’s side. Stars above. Hopefully, Cerian’s not a social vomiter. She glances up at him. His jaw is set, his lips pressed together, but he doesn’t seem in danger of losing his own stomach contents. Thank goodness.
Once Rominy’s done heaving, Cerian’s mother helps him back to his pillow.
At least he didn’t panic and hurt anyone.
Tharios sets the basin out of the way and gestures for Arisanna to move closer, though Cerian doesn’t seem eager to let her with the way he angles his body between her and the bed.
“It’s all right, Cerian,” King Lorial says quietly. “The danger has passed.”
“He won’t hurt me.” Arisanna reaches for Cerian’s hand. “He’s not delirious.”
Exhaling slowly, Cerian steps out of the way and helps Arisanna from the chair. He’s in no hurry to leave her side, though, and everyone shifts to give them room.
“Sanna?” Rominy says.
She lowers herself to the edge of the bed, and when Cerian finally lets go of her, she reaches for Rominy’s hand. “I’m here. It’s okay to be dizzy and disoriented. Do you remember where you are?”
Rominy’s throat bobs as he nods. “Feressa. The hotel. Elowyn. Is she—”
He tries to sit up again, but Tharios gently guides him back to the bed. “You need to lie down until the dizziness passes, Rominy. Can you do that for Elowyn?”
“Yes,” Rominy whispers as his eyes slide closed.
