Chapter 31 #2
Tears blurred her vision. She blinked hard, fighting for hope, but dark thoughts were quick to invade. If Aevar died now, he’d be lost forever. Her throat constricted, and she choked out a whispered prayer. “Please, God, we need more time. He needs more time.”
A couple of tears escaped despite her efforts to stop them. She kissed his fingers and rested her forehead against their joined hands as she continued to pray for his healing.
Footsteps drew her attention. Kian stood in the doorway with a plate in hand, his expression pale and strained. He stared at Aevar, frozen in the unbearable reality of helplessness.
When at last his gaze met hers, a flicker of his usual self returned but didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I brought food. And before you say you’re not hungry, I know. But if you keel over, he’ll be furious when he wakes. You’ll never hear the end of it.”
Her lips twitched, but no actual smile came. Still, she took the plate with numb fingers and whispered, “Tahk fyr.”
The savory herb chicken and warm bread made her stomach turn, then growl. Her body at least remembered it was alive. Bite by bite, the trembling in her limbs eased.
Kian sank down in the chair beside her and leaned back, stretching his legs out with a long breath. For a while, silence pressed between them.
Then his voice came, low and rough. “I should’ve gotten there first. I saw the Kalgoran going for him, but I was too slow.”
Eadlyn lifted her eyes from the plate. “No one was fast enough for all of them. It’s not your fault.”
His jaw tightened. “Feels like it is. I’ve seen him take hits before. But…” His voice trailed off.
She followed his gaze to Aevar’s sweat-slick face. His chest rose and fell with shallow, uneven breaths. Alive, but only just.
Kian scrubbed his hands over his face and braced his elbows on his knees. But then he straightened again, squaring his shoulders.
“He’s too stubborn to die,” he muttered. “He’ll wake up.”
A tight breath broke from Eadlyn’s lips—half laugh, half sob. “I hope so.”
“He will.” Kian’s voice hardened to iron. “If he doesn’t, I’ll chase him into the afterlife and drag him back myself.”
That earned a real, if weak, smile from Eadlyn. She reached for Aevar’s hand again, holding tight as if she could anchor him to this world with nothing more than touch and prayer.
The hall had grown silent with the stillness of the night, the children tucked away into their beds.
Inga sat beside Eadlyn once more like an anchor in the weary hours.
They passed the time in murmured conversation.
Inga was just finishing a tale of Aevar as a child, stealing honey cakes meant for a feast and blaming the dog, when Runar entered the room.
Unlike Inga, who held onto hope like a banner, Runar wore his worry plain. The lamplight etched deep lines into his face, aging him further. He didn’t speak. He just stood at the bed looking…lost. A man who had fought countless battles utterly helpless in this one.
His gaze shifted to Eadlyn, carrying a weight that made her sit straighter.
“If something should happen to Aevar,” he said, his voice quiet but firm, “your place here is safe. The alliance will stand. You are family now. Even if you choose to return to your brother, you will always have a home here.”
His tone held no hesitation. No diplomatic obligation. Only truth. She was family. The words hit hard. They were a gift, yet she couldn’t imagine this place without Aevar.
She swallowed the ache that swelled in her throat and drew a deep breath to fortify herself. “Thank you. But he will recover, and I will not be leaving.”
Runar met her eyes. Something softened on his face, and a dozen emotions warred behind his calm. He nodded. One sharp, silent agreement. He, too, would not accept the alternative.
He left a few minutes later, his footsteps fading into the stillness of the longhouse. Eadlyn turned her focus back to Aevar, unable to keep from pondering what Runar had said. What would her life look like if the worst should happen? Would she return home if Aevar died? Would she even want to?
That the answer didn’t come easily surprised her. Home had shifted since coming here. It wore new faces now. It sounded like Kian’s teasing and Inga’s practical affection. Like Aevar’s smiles and fierce protectiveness…
No. She couldn’t think of losing it all. Not now. Not while his heart still beat.
Time passed in thick silence. The world had grown very small, Eadlyn realized. Just this room and each moment of waiting.
Ranvi appeared in the doorway some time later. She observed Aevar first, then Inga, her face softening with concern.
“You should get some sleep,” she said gently. “I will sit with him tonight.”
Inga hesitated, but after a long look at Aevar, she relented. “Just for a few hours. If there’s any change—”
“I’ll wake you.” Ranvi stepped aside to let her pass, and Inga offered Eadlyn a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder before she slipped out.
Then Ranvi turned to her. “You too. You need rest.”
Eadlyn wanted to refuse, but Ranvi was right, just like Kian earlier with the food. She could not tend Aevar if she collapsed from hunger or exhaustion.
Still, the idea of sleeping terrified her. Her mother had died while she slept. One moment she had gone to bed, and the next morning, everything had changed. She still remembered the cold press of her governess’s hands and the hush in the room when she was told.
Please, God. Not like that again. Don’t let him slip away while I rest.
She drew in a breath that stung. “All right.”
Her limbs dragged as if being pulled down by invisible chains as she stepped away from the bed.
She peered at the corner where Aevar had made his place each night since they married.
Always a respectful distance. But tonight, that distance felt unbearable.
He was her husband. Her home. She did not have to leave his side.
Quietly and decisively, she turned back and climbed into bed. The blankets shifted beneath her as she lay down beside him. Searing heat pulsed from his skin like a forge. She rested her hand on his chest. His heart beat beneath her palm, faint but there, and she prayed for it to keep beating.