Page 86 of The Horned King

The mortal guards step into the ballroom, their orders already relayed to them by Gerald. Sending the undead to an empty chamber where they always rest, I breathe a sigh of relief when I allow them to drop to the floor in a heap, free from my orders for the moment.

The relief and bone-deep exhaustion leave my vision foggy, like my eyes are unable to focus on anything. It feels like sand is trapped between my lids and eyes, scraping with every blink. "Fine." I accept my fate. "Just a few hours of rest."

The walk back up to my rooms is infinite and all too fast at once. I ache to close my eyes and sleep, but I know once I enter my bedroom and see Elva lying there motionless, I'll lose any semblance of self-control I have left.

With each step up the stairs, my legs become heavier and harder to lift until I'm dragging myself along, barely lifting my feet from the ground.

When I find the courage to walk into my bedroom, everything is as I left it, unfortunately.

The Eyes remain by Elva's bedside, watching her wordlessly. They look up at me as I enter, their faces impassive. I haven't been able to look at Elva yet; I'm too scared to find her changed and equally scared that nothing has changed at all.

The only thing different from how I left her before is her hair. It's dried now, and Raya took the time to work some of that creamy stuff into it, showing Elva love and respect even when she's fighting her way back from the dead. I sit on the bed beside her, gently toying with one of the curls.

"There's been no change," Ovoor tells me, and I nod, having expected that.

"But she's still on this mortal plane, so take comfort in that," Olath adds.

Onala clears her throat, the closest she's ever come to showing emotion. "There's still so many futures where she dies, Your Majesty. And fewer and fewer where she lives. Every moment she remains asleep, the possibility of her waking lessens."

I nod again, the helm shaking as I do.

Tired of wearing it and longing to just be myself, I take the thing off, setting it gently on the bedside table, followed by my cloak.

"We'll leave you be, little king," Olath says quietly before they all vanish, leaving behind a silent wisp of smoke.

Then I'm once again alone with my Elva, praying to whatever god will listen. If any of them are even real. Begging someone to keep my girl alive at any cost.

With a groan, I pour myself into the chair beside her, reaching to have her hand in mine. It's freezing and colorless, the cold jarring even through my gloves. But there's still hope, though it grows smaller and smaller every moment.

With her tiny hand cradled in mine, I rest my head on the bed. Just for a few minutes, I tell myself, I can rest. If she wakes, I'll be the first to know. And if she does not, I'll wait here with her until they come to kill me and destroy my kingdom.

I must doze off, the silence around me filling with the cawing of birds at the rising sun. Again, the seagulls call, and in my dream-addled mind, I see them flying around us, attempting to peck at Elva.

In my half-awake nightmare, I fight them off, trying to keep the wicked things from harming my Elva any further.

Kairon, the birds call, taunting me. Your Majesty, they spit. Again and again, they say my name, the sound a horrid imitation of my Elva, torturing me even in sleep.

"Kairon," someone says.

My head snaps up, coming face to face with Elva. Groggy, unfocused, barely able to speak my name, but alive. Relief fills me, so palpable my body breaks out in goosebumps and the world around me becomes blurry from the water gathering in my eyes.

"Elva," her name escapes as little more than a whimper, the tears and lump in my throat showing every emotion I feel as plain as day.

"Why is it so cold in here?" she asks, shivering and pulling the blanket up around her.

I sniffle, fighting to hold myself together and not frighten her. "Do you remember what happened?"

"Ummm." She blinks repeatedly. "We danced and fought. Then I started drinking more wine. Did I drink too much and make a fool of myself?" Embarrassment shows on her face, and the lack of blush in it from blood loss makes me sick.

I shake my head. "No, my Elva. You were attacked. You lost a lot of blood."

"Attacked?" Her eyes start to water, and she places her free hand over her stomach. "Shan."

With a nod, I take her other hand in mine again. "But you're alive. The healer stopped the bleeding, but he couldn't replenish the blood lost, you see. So we all just had to wait and hope you'd wake up. I knew you would," I tell her, wiping a tear from my cheek. "The Eyes weren't even sure; they said it was up to you. But I knew you were too stubborn to let something as trivial as a stab wound stop you."

"Kai." Her lip wobbles, and she gently squeezes my hand.

I nod, finally having the opportunity to do the first thing I swore I would do when she awoke. "I'm sorry for what I said to you yesterday. You didn't deserve that."

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