“Do you mean it?” Aldrik’s voice quivered with anticipation, or excitement.

Whatever it was, she clearly wasn’t meant to understand. Rather than pressing the matter, Vhalla pretended to consider her move so the princes could have their moment.

“I do.” Baldair nodded. Aldrik seemed to be utterly baffled. He fought for words. “Brother, just-just be happy for once.” Baldair leaned back on his pillows.

“Thank you.” Aldrik jumped to his feet. He hovered awkwardly a moment.

Vhalla realized her presence had been completely forgotten. The elder brother took one step, then another to kneel down at his brother’s bedside. Vhalla watched him take Baldair’s hand and hold it tightly.

“Thank you,” Aldrik repeated, his voice soft.

Baldair gave him a familial and loving smile that held for a long moment. “Come now, Aldrik.” Baldair grinned and sat forward again. “Don’t get all weird.” He punctuated the end of the moment by taking his turn on the carcivi board.

Vhalla tried to focus on the board as Aldrik resumed his seat. But something felt different, and she was forced to pretend to not notice the princes’ glances. Whatever had just happened between them was a genuine moment that felt like both men were no longer interested in waging war, that they were one team. The last thing she wanted to do was break such a fragile, yet welcome, calm between them by pointing it out.

“You’re not even making this a challenge for me,” Vhalla teased, knocking out two of his warrior tokens with a sorcerer token.

“I don’t think a sorcerer should be allowed to play with their own tokens,” Baldair mumbled.

“Then you’d remove all the warriors from your side of the board?” Aldrik smirked.

“Oh right.” Baldair coughed. “You’d want-want—”

Baldair’s shoulders lurched as he leaned forward to make his move. Vhalla watched in horror at the moment that the prince’s eyes widened in surprise at the blood that she knew suddenly filled his throat. The crimson liquid spilled out, splattering across the board and the table.

“Brother!” Aldrik exclaimed, on his feet.

“Aldrik!” Vhalla snapped. “Don’t touch him!” Aldrik stopped mid-step, like an animal before the hunter’s bow. “The blood will get you sick far easier than breathing his air. Let me, I’ve had the fever before. Go get the clerics.”

She moved without thought. Vhalla grabbed the clerics’ rags, wiping Baldair, her hand around the prince’s shoulders, feeling the tremors that signified another cough. The younger prince shuddered and coughed into her waiting hand. The fabric was saturated and as she reached for another rag, Baldair coughed a crimson puddle into her lap.

“Aldrik.” Her rough voice snapped the elder prince back from his horror. “I can’t, I won’t leave him like this. Get the cleric you trust most who won’t say anything about my being here.” Vhalla took a deep breath through her nose, forcing herself to remain calm through the memories of being covered in her mother’s blood. “Now! Aldrik, now!”

The crown prince ran from the room, and Vhalla turned back to Baldair. She wiped his mouth, moving her clean hand from his back to his forehead. He was burning alive. “Sit back on your pillows.”

“Vhalla,” he wheezed.

“I know, it’s an awful taste, isn’t it?” She allowed him to slump into her. “Try stay upright, it comes up easier that way.”

“I-I’ve been worse . . .” Baldair gave her a foolish grin. It would’ve been more convincing if he didn’t have blood dribbling down his chin.

“Don’t talk, it’ll only aggravate the coughing.” Vhalla tried to sound brave as she took another attempt at cleaning his face. “I know being quiet is hard for you.”

The door to the outer room slammed open and shut again. Hasty footsteps made their way to the bedroom door, and a man with graying hair and bushy eyebrows darted into the room. He fearlessly set his clerical box down upon the table, sending the carcivi pieces scattering. Vhalla stood, giving him room to access Baldair.

“Excuse me, Lady Vhalla.” The man stepped around her. “Prince Aldrik, I will need you to fetch the full team.”

“With haste.” Aldrik’s voice was level, but his eyes betrayed his panic for his younger brother, who began coughing again.

Vhalla followed him out of Baldair’s room, dripping a trail of blood onto the pristine carpet. She took two steps for every one of Aldrik’s long strides and still fell behind.

“Wait for me here,” he whispered, ushering her into his room.

“Go help him,” Vhalla encouraged bravely.

“Wash, get the blood off you before it can infect you. Help yourself to whatever you may need.” Aldrik looked fearfully at the crimson stains on her lap and sides.

“I will. Now go.”

Aldrik needed no further prompting. He stepped back into the hallway, locking the door behind him.

Vhalla stepped back into the room and took a deep breath. Her inhale was weak. Her exhale quivered. She turned and sprinted for the bathroom. She had to wash it away.

She leaned over the side of the large, golden tub in Aldrik’s bathing room, turning on only the faucet for hot water. It came out steaming, and Vhalla nearly burned her hands in it. The blood fell in large droplets down onto the floor of the tub. Vhalla rung her hands even after they were clean.