Page 83 of The Throne Seeker (Vallorian #1)

A fter their swim, Roman would barely so much as look at Rose. When they did have to speak, he made it a point to keep his sentences short and direct. She hadn’t even gone back to see Moretti, and his grudge against her still wouldn’t budge.

The following days ran together as they settled into a routine of sorts.

They would rise before dawn, have a light breakfast, train until it became too hot, eat lunch, swim for an hour, and then have dinner.

She’d end each day by reading and going to bed early, only to wake up and do it again the next day.

Roman never trained her in the same place twice.

He began teaching her more than the sword, introducing how to use a small knife in a fight, then archery to keep opponents at a distance.

Once, he took her east of the lake to loose rocky terrain, where she struggled greatly.

Another time, he took her to a swampy area next to the river, turning them into mud pies.

The result was a good scolding from Gretta as they trailed the mud through the hallway.

Onyx enjoyed his new freedom by taking her for long evening rides and exploring the woods. With each passing day, she improved as a rider under Onyx’s guidance. Before long, they’d become so accustomed to each other that they didn’t need to speak to know what the other was thinking.

It was all like a dream she didn’t know existed. As time passed, she became stronger—more comfortable in her own skin, finding an inner peace she’d never had.

Although she was thriving at Highland Haven, the same could not be said for Roman.

Every morning, she’d go downstairs and find the bags under his eyes larger than the day before, the usual golden glow of his eyes dulling. She wasn’t sure exactly what his ailment was, but what really worried her was the thought that the Dragonshade hadn’t entirely left his system.

She summoned the courage to mention it one morning, suggesting he rest instead of train. He nearly bit her head off, responding with a short, snappy, “I’m fine.”

She didn’t dare bring it up again.

One afternoon, Roman had to go to the capital for business and said he’d be back later.

She offered to join him, but he refused, saying he wanted to go alone.

He returned later that day, and whatever his mysterious “business” was, it must have gone terribly because he returned in an even fouler mood than when he’d left.

She wondered how long this could continue until one morning, Roman wasn’t there to greet her.

She found Gretta in the kitchens, covered in a mess of flour, kneading dough. “Have you seen Roman?”

“Oh, he’s not feeling well this morning,” Gretta explained with a tight smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “He told me not to worry, though; he just needs a bit of rest.”

“Is there something I can do?”

“Oh no, dear, you go on and enjoy the day. I’m sure he’ll feel better if he just gets some rest.”

“Oh, okay… Thank you, Gretta.”

Rose debated going for a ride with Onyx, but instead, she spent the day in the library—something she’d been doing a lot in her free time, which seemed to be often these days.

Gretta wasn’t lying when she’d said the manor’s library was impressive.

There were so many books, Rose was sure it’d take her lifetime to get through them all.

Some of them were even written in languages she didn’t recognize.

The worn, faded covers and fragile pages signified they contained something ancient.

The perfectly dusted two-story room was filled with dark bookshelves as tall as the ceiling, making good use of the rolling ladders that helped her navigate the mountains of pages.

The library had books containing the histories of Cathan, magical creatures, rare plants within its lands, and more. She frequently found herself studying the other provinces, desperate to know more about the magical world she lived in.

She hadn’t realized how long she’d been reading until the light shining from the paned windows faded, the sun retreating to the mountains, casting a dark purple-pink haze.

She had just begun to gather the books scattered on the table when Gretta burst into the library, carrying a steaming cup of broth in her hands.

Rose frowned, placing a book back onto the shelves. “Gretta? What is it?”

Gretta was practically in tears. “It’s Roman. He’s gone from bad to worse within a matter of hours. I’ve insisted on calling for the healer, but he refuses. He says he’s already been to one. He’s asking for you.”

Rose put the stack of books down. He’d seen a healer? When had he?—

That day he went into the city—it hadn’t been for business at all.

He’d gone to see a healer, and by the looks of it, they’d had no cure for his ailment.

Why had he not come to her sooner? Did he dislike her so much he’d refuse her help?

She, who had saved his life from the Dragonshade? Hadn’t she earned his trust?

“Take me to him,” Rose said at once.

Together, they rushed through the darkening corridors, candles lighting their way through the silent halls, the stillness unsettling her even more.

“He wasn’t able to get out of bed this morning,” Gretta explained, struggling to keep up with her long strides. “I’ve been doing all I can, but nothing I do seems to help.”

Rose placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s alright, Gretta. I’m sure he’ll be fine.” She could only hope. Pray. Curse him and his stupid pride.

Gretta opened the door to his room, where Rose found him weakly sprawled on the bed. The room was modest compared to hers, having a large bed with a solitary window on the opposite wall. But she hardly had time to dwell on details.

He was worse than she’d feared. His amber eyes had dimmed to a dull brown—their life was all but faded, so sickly they’d sunk into their sockets, leaving a deep dark-purple ring around them. The pigment of his skin had faded into a ghostly pale shade and a wheeze escaped his lips with every breath.

It was as though he was dying before her eyes.

Pure panic sieged her from within.

“He says he’s exhausted, but he won’t sleep,” Gretta expounded with a distressed sob. “And he keeps complaining his lungs hurt, but nothing’s wrong with them.”

Rose studied him with desperate eyes. Although she knew a great deal about healing, she was no expert. The fear that the Dragonshade was still in his system resurfaced. He needed someone more experienced. She didn’t have time to experiment.

Rose turned to Gretta. “I don’t care what he wants. Call for a healer.”

“No,” Roman wheezed.

Her and Gretta’s heads snapped to him. The order was supposed to be firm, but in his weakened state, his voice was barely a whisper.

“Gretta… leave us,” he whispered.

Rose glared down at him, wondering how he could be so stubborn. “Roman, you need help.”

He shook his head slowly. “No… Gretta, just… go.”

Rose looked at Gretta, ignoring him. “Go then and send for a healer. Now .”

Gretta didn’t need to be told again, leaving at full speed.

Rose grabbed the sheets, lifting them to examine his body, ensuring she wasn’t missing anything.

“You stubborn ass,” she muttered, putting them back down, trying to hide the worry in her voice.

“You survived Dragonshade, but you want to die now?” She put her hand on his forehead to check for a fever—he was ice cold.

He leaned into her palm and he closed his eyes as if he craved it—as if he needed it to survive. “Lay… Come… lay with me,” he rasped. His clammy hand reached for hers. “Please.”

Rose stood shocked by the vulnerability shining through him. He acted as though he was powerless before her, looked at her as though if she let go of his hand, if she denied him, he’d die right there and then.

Something deep within her dragged her into the bed.

Roman didn’t waste a moment before he crushed her into his cold chest. One hand slid up into her hair, cradling her head, while the other dug into her back, pressing her so fiercely into him it felt as though he was gripping for his life.

She stiffened against him, stunned by his sudden desperation. But after a moment, she wrapped her arms around his neck, instincts kicking in as she combed her fingers through his hair, attempting to soothe him.

He rested the bridge of his nose against her hair and took his first deep breath since she’d entered the room—smelling her, she realized, breathing her in like she was the only oxygen left in the room.

The knowledge set her soul ablaze.

He moved down to her neck, his lips lightly brushing her skin as he spoke. “I… I need you to stay.”

It was at that moment she realized she had an enormous weakness for him.

“I’ll stay as long as you want me to,” she whispered.

They laid there, simply savoring the feeling of each other’s weight as she did her best not to let her mind wander to places it shouldn’t. Guilt sunk in as she realized how much she had missed sleeping beside him, how she had missed having him selfishly like this.

She reprimanded herself; she ought to seek a remedy or diagnosis for his condition—some kind of cure—rather than take advantage of him in his weakened state. But somehow… a stronger inner instinct told her to stay just as he’d asked.

She lifted her chin to look at him, only to find him asleep. Asleep. Relief flooded her. It was a small mercy.

Half an hour passed and Gretta returned, about to speak until she saw them.

“He’s asleep,” Gretta whispered through the darkness, awestruck, looking back and forth at the pair. “How’d you get him to sleep?”

“I have no idea,” Rose whispered back. “One minute, he asked me to come to lay next to him, and the next, he was out cold.”

“You angel of a girl.” Gretta sighed in relief, slumping into the chair beside the bed before she fell over, fanning herself furiously.

“I’ve tried everything, everything , to get him to sleep.

To make matters worse, the healer said he wouldn’t be available until tomorrow afternoon…

” She paused her fanning, straining her ears.

“Listen to that… even his wheezing has stopped… It’s a miracle,” she said, continuing to fan herself again.

Rose stared at her with concern, unaware of his insomnia. “How long has he not been sleeping?”

“Ever since you arrived,” Gretta admitted.

“Though I didn’t know that until a few days after.

He asked me not to say anything, so I didn’t.

The first night I caught him in the library, I didn’t think much of it.

But after I found him more than once, I knew something was going on.

It wasn’t just a fluke. It was every night. ”

Her eyes widened. “He hasn’t slept in seventeen days ? What in Vallor does he do?”

Gretta shrugged. “Who knows. Sometimes he’s in the library or on the patio, other times the kitchen… I’ve caught him staring up the staircase to his bedroom quite a few times.”

Rose’s heart quickened. “You mean the room I’m sleeping in?”

Gretta nodded. “You should’ve seen the way he looked at those stairs. Looked as though he’d seen the stairway to heaven.” She laughed lightly. “Sometimes I thought he’d do it—go up them. He even took a few steps once, but every time, he turned and left… I think he missed you.”

Rose blinked, bewildered. “ That’s your explanation for why he’s so sick? You think he misses me? That’s madness. It couldn’t be. We’re together every day.”

“I don’t know.” Gretta bit her lip. “I’ve never seen anything like it.

I’ve cured my fair share of ailments, but this…

this is different. Nothing seems to be wrong with him.

I thought perhaps it was a phase, maybe some sort of post-traumatic stress from everything he’s been through.

But somehow, he just kept getting worse and worse.

Until now. It’s almost like it’s some sort of… magic.”

But Rose held no power and possessed no magical abilities. There was no possible way she could be the reason for his being so ill… could she?

“I swear I didn’t do this.” She was worried Gretta would think this was all her doing. “If I did, it wasn’t intentional.”

Gretta looked at her, flabbergasted. “Goodness, the thought hadn’t even crossed my mind, child. I know you’d never do anything to hurt him.”

A wave of relief came over Rose. “I’m sorry, I’ve just had a lot of…” She changed her phrase. “People have a hard time trusting me.”

“And some people still believe the world is flat,” Gretta replied with a twinkle in her eye. “Best not to dwell on what others believe. What’s more important is what you believe of yourself.”

Rose gave her a small smile, comforted by the familiar words.

“Well.” Gretta cleared her throat, getting up. “I’ll leave and let you both sleep before my blabbering wakes him. Is there anything I can get you? A change of clothes or an extra blanket?”

Rose shook her head. “No, I don’t want to risk waking him. I’ll be fine,” she said, giving Gretta a thankful nod.

“Bless you. Just ring for me if you need anything. Good night, lass.” Gretta dismissed herself, closing the door softly.

Rose looked back at Roman, who was still out cold, feeling foolish for how she counted his breaths. For how she watched to make sure his chest was still rising and falling. For the urge to want more.

Her eyes fell away, and she chastised herself for letting her imagination wander. He only wanted her here to keep an eye on him, nothing more.

But… if what Gretta said was true? No—she wouldn’t let herself go there. She’d been disappointed one too many times. Fate would never be so kind.

So instead, she learned to be content with this moment. Even if it was like this, even if he regretted inviting her into bed tomorrow, she would cherish being by his side.

She allowed herself to rest her forehead against his, and slowly, sleep found her.