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Nor would running the Spinning Compass, to be fair.

West dragged a hot cloth across his face and neck, almost sighing into the divine heat that wiped the sweat residue and dirt flecks from his coppery skin. He wasn’t covered in sweat, but in a place like the Pits, there was filth on everyone and everything. Better safe than sorry. When the rag was dirtier than his skin, he tossed it into the wire basket that held any of his used items.

His hands unearthed the cream shirt from his charcoal trousers, unhooking the belt and tossing it aside as he pulled the tunic off his body. He ventured into the bedroom where the bed was large enough for two people to sleep comfortably within it and still had a little left over. Just like with his desk, it was in the middle of the room. A perfect square, with nightstands and a dresser for his clothes.

There was no need for a closet when the nine drawers weren’t even full. It wasn’t like he didn’t just wear the same thing every day, or something close to it. His duties were nearly the same, why shouldn’t his clothes replicate that?

West rummaged through the fourth one until he found the least restricting pants that he could wear comfortably to sleep. Just like his second room in the palace, there were sets of clothes there for him as well. He tugged off his boots and set them in the corner, exchanging undershorts for a new, clean pair before slipping into the trousers and crawling into bed.

And when West closed his eyes, his breathing labouringout to a nice, even pace, he didn’t dream. Just as he asked of the sweven-weaving Saint, because she could see the visions during the night. It didn’t matter who it was, regardless if they were a lesser Saint or full, she could always know with a single glance.

He didn’t like anyone- regardless if they were friend or foe, to have that much of an advantage over him. He was well aware that the lovely Saint wouldnever,underanycircumstance, use his dreams against him but it was a precaution he desired to have in place for his own reasons.

So he asked her to take that away, becausehisdreams were nothing more than unrequited love and heartbreak when they inevitably died. There was no temptation when there was nothing to tempt one with in the first place.

Six

Crimson could barely hear the devastating roar in her ears as Cobalt violently coughed. She held a cloth napkin to his mouth as the dark blood came up with every wheeze and hack. He was worse than she’d ever seen him before. His tiny figure shivered and quivered with a mighty force that couldn’t mean anything good.

“Come on, Blue.” She whispered, trying to keep her tears at bay. There wasn’t enough time for her to break down when he needed her desperately. “Youhaveto pull through. You’ve survived every other bout. Treat this one like it’s no different, like it’s just another round.”

She stroked his sable hair, a shade given from their mother. She tried to ignore the tremble that ricocheted through her like shaking aftershocks when an earthquake finished destroying everything in sight.

“I’ll be okay.” He mumbled, his lips taking on an azure tint that scared the living daylights out of her. “I always am.”

“I know,” Crimson murmured down at him and pressed alight kiss to his damp forehead. “You’re stronger than you look. You’ll be back on your feet in no time.”

Even if he hardly ever left the bed.

She dared to leave him for a minute, rushing to the small cabinet by the door and rustling through it until she found the hyssop syrup. A tincture, made by a healer for a large sum. One that almost left them out on the streets instead of the Spinning Compass that they called their home. But it was the only thing that seemed to subdue his fevers, to calm his coughs and allow him to sleep without waking during the long hours of the night.

The long hours that she barely got a wink during, because she always watched over him. The bed was large enough for both of them, and when the nights were particularly chilly and the wind howled like wild dogs, she curled up beside him. Tucked him into her arms as she sang soft lullabies to help ease him into a quiet slum instead of focusing on his illnesses that never seemed to cease.

It had always been them, just the two of them.

Ever since their mother gave birth to her brother, Crimson filled both the roles of sister and parent to him. She would do anything in the world even if it meant giving up everything in her life if it meant him surviving. Which was why she fought in the Blades of Blood. The one thing that might kill her if she was ever discovered. It was a risk she was willing to take though, if it meant being able to afford the medicine to take care of Cobalt properly.

Medicine was expensive.

Even down in the Bronze Gate.

Healers charged an arm and a leg, and there were several horrible people in the world that took advantage of the desperate ones who needed it more. Ones who lied about the contents of thevials they sold, ones that were filled with poppycock ingredients that wouldn’t do anything, let alone cure a fever or two.

Crimson quickly learned that lesson.

After she’d purchased a bottle of amber liquid from a self-pronounced healer who claimed he held the remedy to cure any illness, no matter the severity. The vial bankrupted her, leaving her without food for a week but her hopes were like a roaring fire of light and brightness as she tipped her brother’s head back and poured the contents down his throat. He swallowed it easily enough, and for the first two days it seemed to have worked.

Cobalt woke before her on the first day, shaking her awake until she blinked in confusion up at the small boy who seemed to have more energy than he’d ever had in his entire life. He laughed when she bolted upright and took his cherub face in her hands, twisting and turning it over to peer at the healthy glow in his skin.

“Let me go, Crimson!” He giggled and she couldn’t stop kissing every inch of his face as she almost wept with joy. She couldn’t contain her delight as for once, he seemed perfectly healthy.

The cure had worked.

They’d spent the entire day out in the sun, plucking wildflowers by the riverbank and swimming in the deepest parts. Even the fish swam by, tickling their toes with spiked gills and shimmering scales. They found wild strawberries and filled their bellies until they were swollen and even the thought of the ruby fruit made them feel sick. After the sun had set, they made for their apartment and slept until the next day.

He was fine then, as well.

She treated him to a day in the town, showing him around their tiny parcel of peace as he stared in awe at the amount of colours that came through in the summer day. He’d never been outside their door, let alone the Spinning Compass before so itwas all a sight unseen for the little boy. When he begged her for a single sweet, Crimson found that she couldn’t deny him that miniscule pleasure. Even if it meant she’d have to go another day without purchasing food.