“You look so healthy and vital now, but when I was first caring for you, you couldn’t even open your eyes. It was as if you were an infant that needed constant care. I had you put in my room so I could be there at all times. I was so angry at your empire for taking you away from me, but now you’re here. The multiverse brought you back to me.”
As he spoke, Myrum’s unease grew. He wasn’t trained in diplomacy. He didn’t know how to respond to Lorse without either affirming that they had a growing relationship or upsetting him by denying it.
He didn’t realize he was spiraling until Lorse was forced to repeat his name several times.
“Myrum, are you well? Is the food not to your liking? Please, Myrum, speak to me,” Lorse said, touching his wrist again.
“I, uh, I think I need to rest,” Myrum said, standing up so abruptly his chair danced backward. The walls of the room were starting to close in on him. He needed Amina. The urge to rub his bonding oil on her was nearly overwhelming. He needed to fill his nose with their combined scents.
“Sir?”
He looked down to see Amina standing at his side. He reached for her, but she quickly ducked away from his attempt to pick her up. Instead she pressed herself against his side and drew his arm over her shoulder.
“Are you having one of your sudden headaches, sir? Let me help you to your bed,” she said.
“Headache? Oh, my poor Myrum,” Lorse said, his voice tight with worry. “I’ll have the medic sent to your room right away. You there, help him right now!”
Gis appeared at his other side and took hold of his free arm. Myrum let them guide him out of the room, trying to get himself back in the present as they walked.
Clinking medals.
Hands petting his head and chest.
Fingers forcing his mouth open.
Helpless. He remembered feeling helpless.
“Are you truly ill?” Gis whispered after they were in the hall.
“I can’t do this,” Myrum whispered back. Having Amina close to him was helping, but the panic was still there—looming and waiting to debilitate him as more memories surfaced.
“Shhh,” Amina hissed. “Don’t talk yet.”
Lorse trailed behind them as they made their way to the suite. He stayed close as Amina and Gis made a show of tucking him into the elaborate bed and drawing the curtains. Lorse spoke before they could pull the last curtain shut.
“Leave,” he ordered the two. Gis rushed from the room, but Amina hesitated.
“I told you to leave!” Lorse barked.
Myrum was about to reprimand Lorse for talking to Amina that way, but she sent him a quelling look. Right, they had parts to play, even if he was about ready to fill the outpost with his panicked rattle and roars.
“I most humbly beg sir to let me stay and prepare my master’s medication,” Amina said, keeping her hands tucked in her sleeves and her eyes on the floor. “It’s in three parts, and it’s the only thing that relieves his pain.”
“Then get to it,” Lorse snapped as he leaned over the bed. Myrum didn’t mean to flinch when the Ossiso reached for his face, but he hadn’t been expecting it.
“Oh, you must be in so much pain,” Lorse said, drawing back. “I’ll have some Ossiso yelish tea prepared for you. It’s good for soothing head pain. Rest, Myrum. We have plenty of time to spend together after you’re feeling better.”
Lorse turned away from the bed. “Human, come here.”
Myrum couldn’t see what Amina was doing, but he heard some rustling of clothing as she moved.
“Sir?”
“Care for him as if your life depends on it,” Lorse said. “When the medic gets here, stay out of her way but make sure she knows everything she needs to know to properly care for him. You will not sleep, eat, or rest until he is no longer in pain. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir,” Amina said in a voice so meek it was good Myrum’s chestbox felt frozen or he would’ve let out an amused rumble. “My master is my sole purpose in this universe.”
Lorse grunted. “That’s true. Maybe I’ll let you remain after all.”
