Finlay’s mouth dropped open in awe.
“Aye,” they muttered.
Ava knelt to kiss Nathan’s brow. “I’ll be back before ye ken it.”
Caden kissed the boy’s head, before following her out of the room.He led her to the kitchens, where he made a meal for her—a peace offering. She said nothing, only ate her food while crying softly.
Their hands rested on the table, close enough to touch but still not touching, each accepting the unspoken support. After falling asleep on the table, Finlay came to wake them. Still no change.
They stopped bickering after that. They worked together from then on, learned each other’s rhythms. Ava knew when he would reach for more water, and he knew when she needed to sit.
Thalia never slept. She brewed, crushed, whispered old remedies under her breath, her hands steady even when her eyes were not.
The third night was the most brutal. Nathan cried in his sleep, fighting unseen terrors. Ava and Caden could do nothing but hold his hands and pray. Cat stayed by his feet the whole time, a comforting and warm presence.
On the fourth morning, the fever finally broke, and Nathan fell into a deep and peaceful sleep. His breathing was even, at last.
Thalia sagged back in her chair after declaring he was out of danger. Tears of relief and exhaustion streaked her face.
“He will live,” she said. “He’s a strong fighter, this one.”
Ava sobbed, pressing her lips to the boy’s cool brow.
Finlay helped Thalia out of the room so she could rest in her own bed. She was too exhausted to think properly.
After they left, Caden sank to his knees beside the bed, his composure finally shattering. He covered his face with his hands.
“I almost lost him,” he croaked. “I almost lost both of ye.”
Ava studied him for the first time in weeks.
“He needs us,” she whispered and looked at Nathan. “Both of us.”
Caden nodded, seeing her in a new light.
CHAPTER 28
The fire crackled and popped,sending sparks up the chimney. Ava sat cross-legged on the rug before the hearth, Nathan tucked against her side, his warmth seeping through the wool of her gown.
He had finally made a full recovery. Ava had never left his side and stayed with him in his room.
Tonight, they had huddled together in the Great Hall as snow began to fall outside. Nathan wore Finlay’s old plaid around his shoulders like a cape. It was far too big for him, the hem brushing his feet.
Ava’s heart clenched, thinking about the day when it would become too small for him.
“Now,” she said solemnly, adjusting the crooked paper crown on his head, “this is a very serious night.”
Nathan bobbed his head. “Crazy clothes!” he declared excitedly.
“And,” Ava added, lowering her voice as though she were telling him a great secret, “crazy stories.”
Nathan gasped, his eyes wide. “About dragons?”
“Maybe,” Ava said slyly, tickling him. “Or sheep that talk. Or lairds who turn into frogs!”
Nathan laughed so hard he tipped over, catching himself on her arm.
Ava smiled, pressing a kiss to his wavy hair. The past days had hollowed her out with fear, but moments like this—this simple, foolish joy—mended something inside her. The physical and emotional scars would never leave, though.
