The cough, hard and violent pulled her out sleep, shaking her whole body. Strong hands reached for her, touching her back gently. The cough died and she opened her heavy eyes slowly. Arren's shadows touched her face and neck.

She pushed herself up slowly, meeting his concerned eyes. No jacket, his shirt, plain and white hung loose, the collar and sleeves undone as if he had been waiting for some time. She smiled weakly and sighing he positioned her pillows to hold her up. "I'll get you some water," he said leaving the bed and crossing the room the waiting pitcher.

She looked around the room at the lengthening shadows. How long was I asleep, she thought. It hadn't felt like much. Maybe when I'm healing someone like that, more time passes than I think. She knew that time sometimes ran a bit different in the Veil, it was the way of dreams, but the late afternoon sunlight was too far removed from the morning to just be the strangeness of dream time.

Arren held the cup to her lips, helping her take a few sips of water before lowering it and looking at her again. "I didn't want to wake you," he said finally.

She glanced around the room, Ilun's presence absent.

She turned back to Arren, the question on her face.

"I sent him to play with Julen in the garden. Haribit is watching them," he explained, placing the cup on the table by her bed and picking up a clean cloth. Gently he wiped the sweat from her face and neck. "Let me dry you chest and back, it will make you feel better."

She nodded as he opened the front of the night gown, just enough so it could slide over her shoulders. Carefully he wiped the cloth over her skin, tilting her forward to apply the same treatment to her back. Finished, he pulled her clothing back into place, his fingers cool against her skin.

She motioned for her book and he supplied it to her waiting fingers.

Why didn't you tell me about Lehan, she asked.

"I told you not to be concerned for him, little bird but why are you asking about him?" his tone neutral as he lifted sweat wet hair from her skin, brushing it back to allow the air to touch her shoulders and neck as she rested.

Harbit told me he was very hurt. Saw him in Veil, was dying, she wrote.

He tilted his head, "Was dying? Did you save him?"

"Yes," she said, her voice silent to his ears. She braced herself for his anger at her defiance.

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers and then to her forehead before settling next to her ear, sighing. "Dearest," he said, "I would expect nothing less of you. He will not thank you but I will. You saved my brother even though he did not deserve it and I will protect you from whatever may come next."

She touched his chest as he pulled away, his face held a soft smile.

Not angry, she asked.

He shook his head, "No. There is no reason to be angry. And I was never angry with you to begin with. I was very worried and I did not show it well. I apologize for that but you have brought a man back from death. You are truly something remarkable. But why did you do such a thing?" He touched her face, his palm cool against her cheek.


Don't know, she wrote, frowning slightly, thinking of herself in that moment, remembering the act, like instinct. It came to her suddenly, the reason why. I wanted to know, she thought, if I could. To heal Ilun or the darktellers seemed more natural, they were, like her, things more tied to the Veil but Lehan was not and using her ability on him seemed more like magic, real magic, which she did not possess. I am, she thought, able to change this world too.

The idea burned hot in her, huge and uncomfortable.

She sighed, pushing the new idea away, too much for her fever dulled mind. Around her the silky touch of his shadows fluttered over her skin, slipping under her gown to caress her. Does he know he's doing this, she thought again.

She bent, coughing into her own palm, breaking their contact. The shadows along her skin changed their touch from caresses to support as Arren cradled her, shifting in the bed to sit behind her so she could rest her head and body along his as her coughing fit subsided. As before it drained her. She relaxed her body onto him and he kissed her head.

"I will have the doctor came back to look at you this evening. This fever is still too much and your cough is so violent," he said, dropping the matter of his brother.

It hasn't been very long, she wrote with a shaky hand.

"Any moment you are unwell is too long, my love," he said softly. She looked away, his words spreading warmth through her. He brushed her hair back, "Are you hungry? You should eat before you have more medication."

She shook her head, the fever had stripped her of her appetite.

He smiled at her, "I thought you would say as much. I had something prepared special for you. Wait."

He left the room and returned quickly. "It will be here shortly," he said.

What happened to Julen's mother? He mentioned her, she wrote.

Arren sighed, "You don't want to hear such a sad story while you're so ill."

She frowned and he took her in his arms again.

"She fell ill from overwork and died of a fever. I wasn't aware of the conditions of some of the maids then so I had no idea of the problem before it was too late. I had kept track of Julen from birth, quietly and perhaps if I had paid more attention I could have stopped the circumstances that lead to her death. It is just one more thing that weighs on my soul."

She kissed his jaw, wanting to comfort him as much as her own body would let her. He touched her face, tracing a line with his fingers down her neck. He should spend more time with Haribit and I then and it is not your fault, you have cared for him even so, she wrote.

"Perhaps one day you'll be able to convince me that's true. I will have him come to your apartments more, when he is not needed in my office," he said.

A knock at the door and he pulled away, turning as it opened, a kitchen maid walked in, a bowl filled with a strange off white substance. She glanced back Arren who returned her look of confusion with a bemused smile.

He stood, taking the bowl from the maid with a spoon. The woman bowed nervously and exited the room, quickly.

He turned as the door shut, sitting on the bed. "This is very cold, Isilla. You'll have to eat it slowly."

She frowned at the strange food before opening her mouth, to accept the offered spoon.

Her eyes widened as it melted on her tongue, sweet and creamy. She swallowed, the coolness spreading to her throat. He held another spoonful up for her which she accepted eagerly. Before long she frowned again, the bowl empty.

"So you like ice cream," he smiled at her.

She nodded, the bowl the first thing she had eaten in its entirety since she had fallen ill.

He bent, pressing his lips against hers, his tongue sliding between them to taste her, hot in her cold mouth. "You didn't leave me any," he chastised as he pulled away.

He stilled, shifting from the bed, gently pulling away from her.

A breath later, a knock sounded on the door.

She sunk back into the bed, pulling the blanket up to cover her body as he stood, crossing the room, leaving the bowl on the table, to open the door, his shadows brushing over her face for a moment before following him.

"Who gave you entry to the Princess' room?" Arren asked the man in the doorway.

"I am very sorry my Lord. Prince Lehan has woken and he is requesting the presence of both you and your wife," the man spoke quickly, clearly frightened of him.

"Tell my brother I will be there shortly," Arren responded curtly.

"And the Princess?" the man asked.

"Tell my brother I will be there shortly," he repeated before closing the door.

Isilla found her book, tangled in the blankets. I should go too, she wrote as a series of small coughs erupted from her, her pen carrying across the page, the letters jagged.

He touched her hand, stopping her.

"My dearest, my light, I already told you that I would protect you from whatever came of this. Let me protect you. You need your rest. If you were well I would not let you come and I will most certainly not let you attempt it in your state."

He held out his hand, the shadows spinning, building in his palm. One of the winged creatures that she had seen in his office appeared and immediately leaped into the air, floating along the ceiling.

"My eyes," he explained as he buttoned his shirt and reached for his jacket. " I will send Haribit and Ilun back here to care for you while I am away. I don't know how long he will keep me but I will be back tonight to stay with you as I did last night."

She pointed to her wide bed and he smiled. "If you want me in your bed then you'll have to get better."

She parted her lips, tilting her head, questioning.

He turned his eyes away from her, speaking quickly, "I am nervous but I am a man and you are my wife. I want all that goes with it. But not until you are well."

She blushed from more than fever as he pressed his lips against hers briefly before turning to leave, closing the door behind himself. The creature he had left swooped down and landed on her pillow as she laid her head down. It played gently with her hair as she waited for Haribit and Ilun to return.

Later that night, well past the setting of the sun she woke, her blankets moving as someone slid into her bed, pulling her back against their chest. She tried to move, her body heavy from medicine and exhaustion, responding slowly.

"Hush, dearest," Arren's voice, low and close, stilled her.

My prince, my love, she thought as she drifted back into a deep sleep.

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