Page 8

QUESTIONS

C as wasn’t sure where to start. She was feet from him, exhaustion a living thing in her eyes, even though he could see her trying to hide it. Should he be badgering her with the questions swimming through his head? Or should he keep the conversation softer and let her rest sooner?

The latter was the wiser choice, even if the questions burned into him. He should let her rest further and then perhaps he would feel better about peppering her with questions.

Because he’d tried to answer them himself, but the more reading he did, the more confused he got. There was nothing in the library about anything like what he felt when he was around Emryn.

She was so close now, the fluttering in the back of his mind was desperate, yearning toward her and he wondered what would happen if he just let it go?

But he didn’t want to frighten her. Didn’t want to let the thing inside him loose until she was back on her feet.

“Emryn?”

“Yes, Highness?” She looked up at him, setting the fork to the side. “I will try to answer your questions.”

“Would you like more bisque?”

She looked puzzled, down at her bowl, puzzled, and then up at Cas. “That wasn’t what you wanted to ask me.”

“Your bowl is empty,” he pointed to the silver tureen. “There’s more if you would like more.”

She looked up at him, her eyes searching his. “Say what you mean, Highness.”

“Why do I feel fluttering in my head when you’re around?” He hadn’t meant to ask that.

“What?” She looked concerned, rising from her seat and immediately crumbling to the floor. “Hog piss.” She blurted and then flushed bright crimson. “Pardon me.”

“Emryn, are you alright?” Cas got up and went to her where she was struggling to get up. “Let me help you.”

But she looked up at him and reached a shaking hand to grab his chin, staring him directly in the eyes.

“Don’t do that,” he took his face back, blinking to break the tremulous connection she’d been trying to build. “You’ll make yourself even sicker, Emryn.”

“I have to look, Highness.” She was still bright red. “If your illness has come back, then I have to remove it immediately.”

“I’m not sick, Emryn.” Cas said gently, moving to cradle her and rise. “Finish your supper and we’ll talk about something else.”

He put her back in the chair, trying very hard not to think about how thin she’d felt in his arms. He’d just feed her, and then she would get better.

She’d said it herself. The way she would heal was food and rest. So if he made certain that she had plenty of both, she would get better.

Cas really needed to figure himself out. He almost felt lovesick, and that wasn’t right at all.

She was a healer. He was the prince of Rodilla. There was no way there was anything between them that was more than him feeling indebted to her for saving his life.

She had a vow to the temples. He had a vow to his nation.

There was no future there for either of them.

That hurt. Why did that hurt in the same place that the flutter was? In the back of his mind and in the depths of his soul.

It didn’t matter right at this moment. He would make certain that she ate and rested and then tomorrow he would ask the questions that he had.

And she was nodding off into her soup now, head dipping and eyes fluttering closed no matter how hard she tried to keep them open.

“Emryn, would you like to rest now?”

She lurched, shooting up to force her eyes open, staring at him hard, like that would prevent her from falling asleep again. “I’m sorry, Highness. You had questions.”

“Tomorrow.” He rose and stepped to her side, lifting her from the chair and taking her over to the bed. “Maybe you would consider having breakfast with me tomorrow?”

She nodded, and he had to be imagining the way she cuddled down into his arms before he had the chance to tuck her into the bed. Cas stepped back, looking down at Emryn, who was already asleep.

Reaching out, he brushed a few strands of hair back from her forehead, wincing as the flutter got exponentially worse at the contact.

Maybe he should contact his old tutor. Asan would know where to point him in his search for answers. He had resources that the palace didn’t, ways of finding answers that had baffled a younger Cas.

He nodded and left Emryn’s rooms, heading down the hall to his own and retrieving the mirror that his suitor had left him with when their time together had been deemed over.

Asan had said Cas was welcome to contact him at any time. The First Wizard of Rodilla was a recluse, only seeing carefully selected students, so Cas had never wanted to pester his tutor.

But if he couldn’t get the answers he needed from Emryn, then perhaps Asan would have something that would soothe his troubled mind.

Cas traced the symbols etched into the handle the mirror, watching the glass silver and then go utterly opaque as the sending mirror reached for its other half.

“Highness,” the mirror cleared, revealing the Wizard Asan, surrounded by his books as usual. The older man was handsome in a sharp sort of way, even down to his voice. “What can I do for you?”

“I need some answers.” Cas said. “And the library here has only given me more questions.”

“Tell me what plagues you and we will see what answers we can find.”

Cas tried to explain it clearly. His illness, the way that the palace healers could do nothing. “Mother sent for a city healer, her name is Emryn, and she managed to banish the illness.”

“Interesting,” Asan nodded, “go on, Cas.”

Cas continued. The way he was feeling, the flutter at the back of his head, the strength of it and somehow he dovetailed into the way that the council was attempting to marry him off.

“Return to the subject at hand, Cas.” Asan waved a hand. “You will wed, but Her Majesty will see to it that the choice is yours.”

“I need to know what the flutter is, Asan.” Cas tapped his forehead. “It’s in my head, in the base of my soul, and I need it to stop.”

“Would you like me to look?” Asan asked. “There is nothing I can do without some examination.”

Cas nodded.

“Set the mirror on the floor, Cas.” Asan instructed.

Cas did as he was told, setting the mirror on the floor and backing up as it unfolded into a bright doorway that spat out Asan.

“Now, let me see what we can do.” Asan walked over, robes swirling, and laid a hand directly on the top of Cas’ head.