I awoke to screaming.

  “NO! I WANT TO SEE HIM!”

  “Valaine, Cyran is in no state to deal with you.”

  “BUT HIS MA–”

  “And you are not his mother. She already accepted that he can’t have guests and agreed to wait until he woke up,” Tritetia’s voice was gentle but firm, strained with the kind of quiet desperation I only ever heard when she was completely out of her depth. I stayed still, eyes barely slitted open, letting the voices carry through the small crack in the door.

  Valaine let out another screeching wail, something in between a sob and a tantrum, but Tritetia didn’t flinch. “Why does he get you but not me? He can't even do magic!”

  “Because Cyran doesn’t try to make me do things I don’t want to do,” Tritetia sighed and I struggled not to roll my eyes. “Besides, I’m the only one who can cool Cyran down without getting burned.”

  “But–”

  “Go, Valaine. I’m sure Lady Linota is more than willing to play with you while you both wait,” Tritetia’s voice had an air of finality, and there was a long pause. Then footsteps, furious and heavy for someone so young, pounded down the hallway as the door finally closed.

  The quiet that followed felt almost sacred. I let my breath slide out slow and even before shifting slightly under the heavy blankets, my body reminding me in full detail that I’d very recently been used as a chew toy by magical foxes. Everything ached, from the deep soreness in my ribs to the bone-deep throb that still pulsed along my spine. For a moment, I thought about keeping still, pretending to be asleep just a little longer.

  “So, you’re awake,” Tritetia’s voice was right next to me, and I looked over to see her standing beside me, a relieved and tired look in her sea-green eyes. She had her hair up in a loose bun, as if she had quickly thrown it up to get it out of the way. “That’s good.”

  “Mhmm,” I groaned, closing my eyes as I groaned, closing my eyes as the pain crawled behind them again like someone had tucked burning wire beneath my skull. “You… said my mother was here?”

  “... yes. It didn’t feel right to tell her to leave, but she had to bring Valaine with her.” I heard as Tritetia sat down, and I opened my eyes again to see her sitting on a stool, finally reaching up to let her hair flow over her shoulders. I saw a slight shiver run up her body as she settled, and I could only guess that either the room was cold, or her body was. “You’ve been out for a while.”

  “How long?”

  “Five days,” Tritetia breathed and I nodded, waiting to see what else she would say. “When Yssac showed back up, you were already unconscious. Everyone was terrified, and it took three knights to carry you to your bed. I have no idea how Yssac managed to get you on his back or how he didn't drop you. His burns were bad.”

  I started to chuckle, stopping as soon as the motion made my throat ache. A part of me wanted to ask for the names of the knights, so I could tease them for not being able to carry a thirteen year old boy when Yssac did. I had thought Yssac too weak or unwilling to try, but clearly he was braver than trained men.

  “Isadora?” I asked instead, dragging my thoughts back into focus. Tritetia nodded, her eyes drifting to the open windows. She stood, closing them to block out the afternoon sun and I sighed, nodding slightly in acknowledgement as she sat back down.

  “She brought the same priest who’s been tending to Caspian. Everyone thought… you had caught the same sickness,” Tritetia answered. Her voice was steadier now, like my waking up had let her finally relax her grip on it. “He checked you over, said you were fine, just overheated. He couldn’t be certain why, since I didn’t tell him you had been to Driria with Yssac. Figured you wouldn’t want anyone to know.”

  “I don’t,” I agreed, shifting under the blankets again, just enough to roll onto my side and face her. The movement made the world swim for a moment, a dull heat washing through the inside of my skull, but I ignored it. Trietia was watching me, her eyes gentle and tired, as if she was barely managing to stay awake. “You cooled me?”

  Stolen novel; please report.

  “Technically,” Tritetia muttered and she finally turned away, glancing at the floor as she spoke. “You were burning up, and water was just steaming without really cooling you.”

  “So?”

  “I… used magic to cool you down,” Tritetia spoke into her arm, still refusing to look at me as I watched her. I couldn’t understand why she was acting the way she was, or why she was refusing to look at me. As far as I knew, sea folk didn’t see magic as a personal thing, so why did Tritetia almost seem… embarrassed? “I’ve been working to cool you off.”

  “And Yssac? Did he make it work?” I decided to change the topic, not wanting to linger on whatever Tritetia had done. It didn’t matter what it was; it had worked, and I could tell that my blood was no longer on fire. At that, Tritetia finally looked at me again, a faint smile pulling at the corner of her mouth.

  “He did,” she said softly, and even through the pounding in my head, I felt something loosen in my chest. “A few hours ago, actually. He left with the antidote and the rest of the sandwalker blood.”

  “Why the blood?”

  “He wanted it as proof to Isadora. We both agreed that exposing the duke or Marquess would only alert the person who told them, so Yssac is using the excuse that he thought what Caspian fought might be a sandwalker. It’s not common, but apparently some beasts can be fed sandwalker blood and survive, becoming Sandwalker beasts,” Tritetia explained, and I nodded, doing my best to keep up. I didn’t like that both Blackwood and Duke Miller were getting away with no blame, but it made sense. Someone else had fed them the information, and if we exposed that, it could make them act against all of us faster. For now, saving Caspian and my mother was enough. “He also promised not to mention Thorne, although Isadora will likely put two and two together.”

  “She will, but she won’t have an easy target for who did it,” I agreed, seeing what Yssac had planned. By revealing Caspian had been poisoned but not by who, he was allowing Isadora to make the connection and look for our informant rather than punishing the puppets. It saved us from having to try and look ourselves, and let her do what she was best at—watch quietly, then move swiftly when the time came.

  I let the thought settle before shifting slightly, tugging the blankets higher up to my shoulders. I couldn’t feel whatever cold Tritetia felt, but I still felt exhausted. Being unconscious was apparently not a substitute for sleep, and I let the weight of the covers press into me like they could hold the world still for a few more minutes. Tritetia hadn’t moved, though she’d gone quiet again, her hands resting in her lap, fingers curling in and out of her sleeves the way they always did when she didn’t know what to say. I stared at her for a moment longer, my head tipped slightly against the pillow.

  “I’m going to sleep.”

  “Okay,” Tritetia slowly unfolded from her stool, still playing with her sleeves as she stood. Then– “Yssac told me. About the Muxleons.”

  I waited, watching her. Her cheeks flushed faintly as she looked down again, pulling at a loose thread along the hem of her sleeve. The silence grew thicker, but I didn’t fill it, trying to decide if I was irritated or not. Yssac had done me favors I already dreaded repaying, but I didn’t appreciate him worrying Tritetia for no reason. My fingers flexed under the blanket, curling slightly into the sheets, but I didn’t look away from her.

  “And?”

  “And,” slowly, Tritetia let go of her sleeve and I watched as she reached for the bed. Her hand carefully found mine under the blanket, her fingers cool against my overheated skin. She didn’t grip too tightly, didn’t linger like she was waiting for a reaction. Just a quiet, grounded pressure, like she was placing something fragile down between us and trusting I wouldn’t break it.

  “I’m glad you’re okay.”

  I frowned, not because the words upset me, but because I didn’t know what to do with them. She didn’t force emotions onto people the way Valaine did, and she didn’t announce her worry like Isadora or my mother might have. She just… said it. Soft and small and simple.

  I blinked slowly, letting the moment stretch. “I wouldn’t have died.”

  “I… know,” she replied, but it sounded more like she was trying to convince herself than me. “But… still.”

  She didn’t let go right away, and I didn’t ask her to. My whole body still felt like it had been pulled through fire and stitched back together with ice, and the fact that her hand was the only cold thing I could feel was oddly grounding. I didn’t understand her, but the sincerity in her voice wasn’t something I could argue with.

  After another moment, Tritetia pulled away and walked toward the door without another word. I watched until I couldn’t see her anymore, frowning as I looked at my own skin. Tritetia had never felt cold before, so was it due to whatever magic she had done? I just continued staring at the place where her fingers had rested against mine, half expecting some lingering chill to remain.

  Tritetia was strange.

  The door clicked shut behind her, and the room was quiet again, save for the distant hum of voices outside and the hush of my own pulse.