43 His Life (1/2)

Isilla sat up at Haribit's coaxing. Everything hurt, she shivered even as her skin burned. Her friend tutted and propped her up on the pillows, settling the blankets around her before wiping the sweat from her face and chest.

Isilla motioned for her pen and Haribit handed her the book, opening the pages for her.

He's my prince, Isilla wrote.

Haribit raised an eyebrow, ”Hmm?”

The letters, Isilla clarified. He told me last night.

Haribit's face changed, cycling through shock and surprise to a sort of smugness. ”I told you! I knew the way he looked at you it had to be him! All this time you've been here and you couldn't tell!”

Isilla coughed into her hand and Haribit dropped her gloating to cross back to her side and rub her back until the coughing subsided leaving Isilla weak and tired.

”The doctor said that you would be alright, it's just an illness from the cold but your body isn't used to it so it's hitting you quite hard. After you've eaten I'll give you more medicine.”

Isilla shook her head. I don't like it. Tastes bad, too sleepy, she wrote.

Haribit frowned, ”You have to take it. Your husband will kill me if I don't make sure you're treated. You should have seen him yesterday. Julen had to drag him away from your bedside. He looked so scary! Those shadows were everywhere. And then when he came back he had a list of orders about food, clothing, and everything else for you. As if I wasn't capable of taking care of you myself. What happened yesterday?”

Isilla shook her head, the cough taking her again. Lehan wants to take me, she wrote simply.

Haribit frowned, ”How? You're Prince Arren's wife.”

Isilla shrugged and shook her head.

”And besides, I overheard some of the servants talking. Lehan is very hurt. They said that he may not be able use his arm again, it was damaged so badly. He still hasn't really woken up either, from the head injury.”

Isilla's lips parted in shock. He was hurt that badly, she thought.

A knock on the door and Sele entered with a bowl of something steaming, a kettle of hot water and a single tea cup.

Haribit thanked the woman as she bowed and left, gathering the bowl. ”Rice and broth. You should be able to eat some of this at least,” she said lifting the spoon to Isilla's mouth. She opened it and swallowed slowly, the food sliding tastelessly down her throat.

After she had eaten enough, Haribit made tea and gave her the medicine. Isilla took it all before laying back onto the pillows. I feel worse, she thought as she closed her eyes.

”Prince Arren said he would be back before lunch,” Haribit said smiling. ”Rest up until then.”

Isilla nodded even as she drifted off.

In the Veil the major effects of the illness were absent, the connection between her dream body and physical one a line where illness could not cross. She looked down at Ilun whose tail thumped on the ground, his form changing slowly in soft waves throughout his body.

The gate opened and she looked up as someone entered her courtyard.

She smiled at the little boy, the darkteller with blue ocean eyes as he crossed the stone to her. She knelt and patted his head, using her own power to feel along the line for his body. He's fine, she thought, happy to see him in good health.

”Hello, why are you here dear?” she asked.

He pointed his finger at the fountain, ”Pretty.”