Page 13 of Ash and Burn

The silence between them stretched as they walked the pathway toward the medical facilities, broken only by the distant rumble of thermal vents and the soft percussion of their footsteps. Arvid found herself stealing glances at Calix, noting the rigid set of his shoulders and the way his jaw clenched as though he were fighting some internal battle.

His breathing remained slightly elevated, and twice she caught him running a hand through his black hair in what appeared to be unconscious agitation. The clinical part of her mind cataloged symptoms: elevated stress response, possible fever, muscle tension indicating pain or discomfort.

Something's wrong.

"Are you certain you're feeling well?" The question emerged sharper than she'd intended. "Because you're exhibiting several concerning symptoms."

Calix's stride faltered for half a step before he recovered, those green eyes flicking toward her with surprise. "I'm perfectly fine."

"Your respiratory rate is elevated, you're displaying repetitive stress behaviors, and your skin temperature appears flushed." She stopped walking entirely, forcing him to halt beside her. "Do you have Ash Fever?"

The question hung between them, and something dangerous flickered across his expression—not anger but something deeper.

"No." His voice carried absolute authority. "I do not have Ash Fever, and I am fine."

Arvid crossed her arms, unmoved by the royal decree. Three years of independence from the military had taught her to push back against men who expected their word to be law, regardless of how devastatingly attractive they might be.

"Well, I'm keeping a close eye on you regardless. The last thing this territory needs is their king falling ill during a medical crisis."

The smile that spread across Calix's face should have been illegal. It transformed his entire expression, softening the harsh authority into something warm and genuinely amused, and Arvid felt her pulse stutter in response. The man was already unfairly gorgeous—and when he smiled like that, he became absolutely lethal.

"You don't need to monitor my health, Arvid." Her name on his lips sounded like a caress, and she fought the urge to step closer. "Healer Dorn has been more than diligent in ensuring I remain unaffected."

She raised an eyebrow, her scientific curiosity overriding the inappropriate flutter in her chest. "How so?"

"I'm forbidden from consuming anything from the public market. All my food and water comes from Ashspire's private supplies. Dorn also administers vitamin treatments weekly, and I undergo health screenings twice monthly." He resumed walking, and she fell into step beside him. "So far, I remain perfectly healthy."

Arvid's mind immediately began processing the implications. "Is everyone else following the same protocols?"

"No." Calix's expression darkened slightly. "The restrictions are... specific to my position."

A flare of irritation shot through her chest. She understood the logic—a territory needed its leader functional during a crisis—but the inequality rankled against every principle she had.

"That's going to change." Her voice carried the steel that had gotten her court-martialed for insubordination. "Plus, if you're healthy while your citizens are dying, we can use that differential to isolate the transmission vector. Your health isn't just about keeping you functional—it's a data point."

Calix studied her with those penetrating green eyes, and she had the unsettling sensation that he was seeing something in her expression that she hadn't intended to reveal.

"That makes sense. We'll discuss it with Dorn."

The medical facilities appeared ahead—one massive central building flanked by two smaller structures that radiated the kind of organized chaos Arvid associated with field hospitals. They approached the front entrance of the main building and Calix held the door open for her again. When she stepped inside, the main building's interior struck her immediately as both familiar and alien. The basic layout resembled every medical facility she'd worked in, but the technology hummed with subtle differences and there was an underlying warmth that spoke of the geothermal energy powering everything.

Calix guided her through corridors that bustled with purposeful activity, healers moving between rooms with focused efficiency that spoke of people pushed to their limits but refusing to break.

"Dorn." Calix's voice carried easily across the laboratory when they entered the space, drawing the attention of a broad-shouldered man whose gray-touched hair and permanently tired eyes marked him as someone who'd been fighting this battle far too long.

Healer Dorn approached with steady hands despite the exhaustion etched into every line of his face, and when Calix introduced her, Arvid caught the flicker of desperate hope that crossed the older man's expression.

"Arvid is here to assist with the Ash Fever investigation," Calix explained, his tone carrying the weight of royal expectation. "She has extensive experience and unique expertise."

Dorn's handshake was firm but carried the kind of relief that made Arvid's chest tighten with the pressure of expectations.

"We've been working around the clock for four months," he said, and the weariness in his voice spoke of sleepless nights and mounting casualties. "We've managed to slow the progression of the disease in patients, but we haven't identified the source or developed an effective cure."

"I need to see everything." Arvid's mind was already shifting into analytical mode. "Your notes, treatment protocols, statistical analysis, patient progression data—all of it."

"I can compile a comprehensive briefing by tomorrow morning," Dorn replied. "And I'll have a datapad prepared for your exclusive use. For now, let me show you the facilities and introduce you to the team."

Frustration spiked through her chest. Every hour they delayed meant potential deterioration in existing patients, possible new infections, and data points lost to time. But she recognized the necessity—Dorn needed time to organize months of research into something coherent and useful.