“She never seems comfortable, so are you saying I need to constantly keep my distance?”
He rolls his eyes while muttering some curse under his breath before pinning me with his gaze and letting out a heavy breath. “No, your presence has enlivened her. Far more than we’ve seen the last few years.”
Each of the others nod in agreement, and my brows knit in the center as I drop my gaze to her sleeping form. My heart squeezes at just how peaceful she seems, while wondering what in the Continent I’ve missed over the last handful of years, since she’s much too practiced at feigning wellness, and we haven’t had the opportunity to speak in relative privacy since we were forced to part.
“Let’s just hope I can keep her that way,” I say, referencing my concern with the recent attacks on the Palace, as well as those along the border. “Speaking of—has the Emperor taken any of the Generals’ claims of the change in attack strategies from bordering lands seriously? Or do you know if he has sanctioned any of the other bases to modify our own?”
Malin shakes his head. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but our ruler doesn’t take news of our current strategies failing due to the inventive changes from multiple other lands well—especially not when they all come in around the same time. But to answer your question, he has not, because he perceives it to be like admitting defeat.”
I stare off into the distance, being well acquainted with the Emperor’s thirst for what he perceives as power, and yet, this is entirely nonsensical, even by his standards. Putting our Empire at risk if we don’t?—
Tasch’s groan pulls our collective attention as she thrashes, and I quickly close the distance between where I was standing and the edge of her mattress.
“Cirrin,” I say, calling him over as her groans turn more urgent before she cries out, voice growing in volume every second it takes him to round the end of the bed. “Can you?” I gesture, and he takes her hand to more effectively imbue her with healing magic.
“What do you notice?” I ask after her loudest cry yet, heart hammering as a haze encroaches my vision.
“Her heart rate is elevated,” he reports.
“Even after you imbued her?” I ask, terrified.
“Her mind is so active, it’s as if it’s been taken over and cannot settle like usual,” he says.
“What do you mean ‘taken over’?” I ask, far more scared than I was a moment prior.
“No!” she screams, and I look to each of her Guards, none of whom can help her emotionally, as none are sanctioned to influence her feelings.
“Glass. Shattered,” she says, and my brow furrows, staring up at the perfectly intact glass in each of her doors and windows before my face falls and understanding weighs on me.
“She’s having a nightmare about?—”
“Hendry,” Fray finishes for me.
“Glass everywhere,” she mutters, and my stomach twists, haunted by the way my boots crunched over the broken panes once held inside the door to the balcony.
“No, don’t take me!” she yells, and my eyes widen in horror as I was the one who carried her right after it happened.
But she had indicated—she had acted as if?—
“Fray! No! Stop!” she yells next, and we look at one another in confusion, as Fray didn’t lay a hand on her the night flames claimed Hendry’s life.
“One of you,” I command, pointing at each of them, then down to her, “do something.”
“What would you have us do?” Lars asks.
“Do you want me to try to wake her?” Fray asks, and I force out an exasperated breath.
“I don’t know,” I say, my voice breaking the same as my heart. “If Cirrin’s healing can’t calm her, I’m not just going to stand here watching and waiting while she endures this.” Her eyes dart around under her eyelids, and her muscles tense as she flexes her limbs, flinging them out to the side while her back arches.
I can’t take this. She’s in agony.
And if I can’t change the way she feels with magic, I’m going to have to get creative.
Looking from each of her Guards, I pull on the courage to go against everything screaming at me to follow the Emperor’s orders, knowing she needs the exact opposite of what anyone in this room would approve of. Because anyone could catch us if I go through with doing the one thing that always settled her nightmares before. Back when she was free of these walls and the cloying expectations within them. When a lifetime of being held captive by the tyrant who presides over all of us finally caught up with her.
When she may have needed me a fraction of the amount I need her. Because the way she lunged for me, the way she reached for me, how she looked at me—all signs my proximity may actually be comforting.
The next cry to rise from her squeezes my heart.
