Malin rested a hand on my shoulder. “The fever usually burns out within a day. He should be more like himself by tonight.”
“He wasn’t long into it,” Sander said. “Good thing Skadi was here.”
A bit of the heat of Jonas’s fever burned in my face. Sander was laughing, taunting me in front of their parents, but it was much like they did with everyone.
It was a bit of belonging.
I shot him a narrow look, then sat on the edge of the bed, listening to the soft laughter as they quit the room to gather the needed herbs.
“Is he well, My Lady?” Dorsan asked.
I dragged my fingertips down Jonas’s cheek, his features softened and peaceful. Without looking at the guard, I nodded. “He will be. Thank you for helping, Dorsan.”
“I merely summoned the king and queen.”
“And it was helpful. Go back to sleep if you wish. I won’t be going anywhere.”
The whole of the day folk came and went through Jonas’s room. Niklas made certain I had more elixirs on hand if the mesmer attacked again.Tova brought her son who had drawn a few scratchy pictures he wanted his older cousin to hang on his walls.
Most who visited thought Jonas was merely prone to fevers. Sander spoke true, my husband did not share the true cause beyond those friends and family closest to him.
When Frigg and Von joined Sander, the three didn’t leave. They ate mid-meal with me, told childhood stories of Jonas and his rather zealous opinion of his whittling abilities.
“All those oblong wooden creatures you’ve seen about the palace are his creations since childhood.” Frigg popped a square of pale cheese on her tongue, grinning. “They’re all just out of proportion and crooked, but Mal loved them and it went straight to his head.”
We played a few rounds of an alver game with paper cards and wooden dice, but the trio still remained.
I plucked one of the books I still had and read some elven folklore out loud.
Von slumped back in a chair, hands laced over his belly, eyes closed. Sander was enraptured by each fable, and Frigg sent for more food until the woman from the cooking rooms told her she could use her damn feet and get it herself.
I snickered at that. The notion of servants (or staff) being ordered about so much they snapped at my grandfather would shock the whole of Natthaven.
The three left before the nightly meal, insisting they’d check back in the morning. Sander told me if I needed to sleep without interruption, if Jonas didn’t wake, he would come sleep in his chamber.
Uneaten herring and bitter herbs remained on a plate by the time the sun dimmed to evening.
“A kingdom of caves and tunnels,” I read out loud in the bed. One palm rested on Jonas’s brow, playing with his hair. “A world unsuitable for such a maid. But when her father vowed war against the troll king, his daughter, lovely and gentle, took up her lover’s blade and leveled it at her own neck. Between two great armies, between enemies and worlds, she stood steady as a great oak. She vowed her heart to the soul of her troll mate or vowed death should her people come against them.”
I smiled, studying the painting on the thick pages. A woman surrounded in light holding a narrow blade to her neck, eyes pointed to the skies as though imploring the gods for help.
My blood rushed to my head when my palm was taken from his hair and pressed to full, dry lips.
“What happened next?” Jonas’s voice was rough, weary.
“All gods.” The myth of the troll king and his bride fell off my lap. I choked his neck with my arms. “You’re awake.”
Jonas coughed, running a hand down my spine. “Not for long if I cannot breathe.”
“Sorry.” I pulled back, palms on his cheeks. “I should . . . let me get your mother and father, they?—”
“Skadi.” Jonas tugged on my hand. “Stay. For now, just . . . stay.”
I slipped beside him, rolling over to face him. “How do you feel?”
“Like I have been tossed into the sea again and again from a very high cliff.” Jonas’s eyes were burdened and shadowed.
My chin trembled. “It was terrifying, Jonas. I didn’t know what was happening.”
