“Fine.” Baldair’s eyes lingered on her chest and Vhalla knew he wasn’t checking out her figure. She tucked the watch under her shirt as she unfolded her arms. “Well, whatever the reason, I am happy to see you around again. I was worried about Aldrik.”
“Has he fallen into any . . . bad habits?” she asked delicately.
“Surprisingly not,” Baldair praised his sibling. “He’s held himself together, done what he’s supposed to do and then some. He’s the man I always knew my brother could be, and he did it on his own this time. And yet, it feels so empty.”
Vhalla stared at the candles, flickering with Aldrik’s flames.
Baldair continued in her silence, “When he fought for you, he fought. It was bad, it was ugly, but he fought. The man I knew to have fire in his veins now does nothing more than simmer. I know I said everything between you both was a bad idea.”
“It was,” she interjected.
“It was,” he affirmed. “But you did it anyway, and now I don’t see him ever being happy again without you. He may be the best Emperor the Empire will ever know, and he’ll be empty inside.” He paused before adding, “I know, I am a hypocrite for this . . . But, I’ve gained some new perspectives since I’ve been trapped in this bed. Don’t leave him now, Vhalla.” Baldair wheezed, “Especially, if something happens to me. He’d have no one else who knows that the Fire Lord is capable of joy.”
“Don’t say that.” Vhalla brought her eyes back to the golden prince. “Please, don’t say things like that.”
“I know what this illness does.” Baldair shifted uncomfortably. “Especially in adults who contract it with no history.”
“You will be fine,” Vhalla insisted bravely.
The outer door opened and closed again. Aldrik appeared in the inner doorway before anything else could be said.
He brought a tray, setting it down on his brother’s lap. “Will this do?”
“It’s perfect.” She nodded, appraising the soup and small roll of bread. “Now, Baldair, will you eat this or do I need to force feed it to you?”
“I’ll eat, I’ll eat,” he chuckled.
The golden prince ate slowly, and Vhalla and Aldrik both had to push him toward the end. But eventually the whole bowl and bread were consumed. He complained about it sitting uncomfortably, but Vhalla told him to stop moaning about what would make him better. It was followed up with a firm order to eat all of whatever the clerics put before him from then on, no matter how he felt. She could imagine the clerics going soft on the prince when he needed to be pushed.
They helped him lie back once more. The older brother supported the younger as she situated the pillows. Aldrik produced a potion for the cough, and Baldair took it without question. It coated his throat and took effect almost instantly. Baldair was asleep within a few minutes, and Vhalla suspected there might have also been deep sleep potion in the now empty vial.
Vhalla and Aldrik sat for a while, watching the golden prince rest.
“How is he?”
Vhalla turned her attention to the elder prince at his question. He was hunched over, his elbows on his thighs, his hands folded.
“When . . .” Vhalla took a deep breath, forcing herself to be brave. “When my mother fell ill, it took a week for the blood to set in. He’s not far.” She reached for the cloth, showing Aldrik.
“After the blood?” He looked from his brother’s red-tinged mucus to her.
“My mother.” She glanced back to the golden haired prince. “Three days.” She reached out to Baldair, placing her palm on his forehead lightly. “But she did not have clerics like you do here. Her fever was much higher by this point. We didn’t have a lot of good food either. If the clerics can keep the fever low, and he eats to keep his strength, I know he will fight it.”
Vhalla looked back to Aldrik. He had his face hidden in one hand, the other on his knee. Silent suffering summed him up so woefully perfectly. Her hand hovered in the air a brief moment before Vhalla brushed the skin on the back of the hand on his leg with her fingertips.
Aldrik’s face snapped up. His gaze was uncertain, but he did not move his hand away. The crown prince’s whole body was still and tense. Vhalla’s fingers slid and curled in a reassuring motion. His hand closed around hers with sudden force, and they did nothing but look at each other.
“I won’t leave again,” she whispered. “Whatever ill fate awaits us; I’ll wait for it with you.”
“I want you with me, always.” His other hand caressed the chain on her neck. “Even if you never need me again in the same way, I need you.”
His fingertips paused, the metal of the watch the only thing separating his hand from her chest. Aldrik took a deep breath. “I want to start over. Before the heartbreak, the anger, before the foolish words that were said, and before you knew the man I used to be.” His dark eyes pleaded with her, his voice breathy beneath his mask. “I want to go back to a time when I could teach you magic. I want the chance to treat you as I always should have.”
“I don’t think it works that way.” Her own mask hid her tired smile.
“We can make our own way; we always have.” Aldrik cupped her cheek boldly, and Vhalla didn’t stop him. “What have we to lose?”