“There was no trick. I’m just better.”

Em gaped at Prince. Don’t provoke him!

The man growled in fury and launched himself across the small space at Prince. “I’m going to teach you a lesson, you little rat!”

Prince’s bench-like bed broke under their fall and the attacker tried to pin Prince down. He pinned one arm and began swinging his other fist at Prince’s face. After one punch, Prince caught the man’s wrist. And while his nose bled, he yanked the man’s arm down and bit it.

Hard.

Hard enough to draw blood and the man screamed in pain and fury.

It was all the distraction Prince needed to wriggle his way free, pushing the man aside and stumbling for the door.

For a fifteen-year-old, he was strong. Was it because he was Lycan? Probably.

Em followed the two as the fight spilled into the hallway. Again, the man caught Prince who hadn’t quite gotten to his feet and slammed the Lycan against a pole.

It was the first time Em had been just outside Prince’s room. The area outside looked more like a barn than a building, including poles and open space. There were a handful of people timidly peeking in from the big doors on either end of the barn and from the little rooms that lined the walls. All watching as the fight progressed toward the center of the building.

“You stupid monster!”

Em threw herself at the attacking man. And went right through him! It was infuriating! She tried to imagine throwing a mana made fireball, but it fizzled and refused to form.

What was the good of healing in a situation like this?!

“What the hell is going on in here?!”

Suddenly, four men in uniform came into the barn and separated the two fighters. With his arms being held by two of them, Prince went limp. Grunting in pain.

Both combatants looked horrible.

Em ran up to Prince and put a hand on his ribs. Just his ribs and insides, she told the golden thread. She saw him stiffen, but he said nothing.

“What the hell happened?”

“I was just getting the rat for afternoon training,” said the attacker. He pushed off the third man holding him and straightened. Holding his bleeding arm against his chest. “It went crazy.”

He shot a sneer at Prince.

Who glared back but made no attempt to defend himself.

Man #4, who was doing the questioning, sighed and rubbed his forehead.

“Take the Lycan to confinement,” he told Prince’s captors. “Two days of no food should take some guff out of him. I’ll let the lady know what’s going on.”

“That isn’t fair!” Em shouted at them. “Prince didn’t start it!”

Of course, no one heard her. No one saw her.

If Em could’ve cried in that state, she would have. Fury and helplessness roiled around inside as she followed them to ‘confinement’. Which turned out to be a little, dirt shack at the back of a farm-yard area.

It smelled like an outhouse and Prince had to crawl to get inside.

And once inside with the door closed, the only light was a crack along the top and bottom of the door. Prince collapsed, breathing in hard gasps.

Prince was going to get sick just being here!

“Let him out!”

She wiped at her eyes. More out of habit than because she could feel her eyes or could actually cry. They won’t listen. They couldn’t even hear her!

So she crawled to Prince instead. Not wanting to know what she was lying on as she laid next to him. Trying to see his face in the too dim light.

She couldn’t see him. But she could hear him.

Thanks to her quick healing, he wasn’t wheezing. But it hadn’t stopped the pain, and she could hear it in the way his breathing wobbled.

Now that she was holding still, she felt oddly… heavy.

Exhausted.

Just as she felt when she practiced using mana in her… in Emmaline’s body for too long.

“I’m sorry, Prince. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

She reached to touch his face but couldn’t feel it. Couldn’t even tell if her fingers were on his face or had gone through his head. She heaved a sob.

“I can feel you again,” Prince whispered. “Don’t be sad, Angel. I’ll be alright.”

“Emmaline. Wake up, miss.”

Em opened her eyes and looked around. Disoriented.

The carriage had stopped, and Tracy was kneeling in front of her. Tracy was holding a handkerchief and wiped tears off of Em’s cheek.

“I’m so sorry, miss. I should have woken you sooner.”

Em blinked at her. Then staggered upright and threw her arms around her maid. She burst into more tears. Over a stupid dream! But it felt so real.

Poor Prince.

Poor homesick, grieving Emmaline.

“There, there, miss,” Tracy soothed. Holding Em firmly against her. “I’m here, it was just a dream. Everything will be alright.”

No. No it wouldn’t be alright. Em was dying. Even if Em woke up and all the miseries here went away, it was still game over very soon. She cried harder and barely heard the door to the carriage open.

“What on earth happened?”

Em heard Tracy explain as best she could. Adding things that Em hadn’t told her but the maid had guessed. Things that Emmaline was feeling.

Then Em felt a pair of strong arms pull her from Tracy and pick her up.

Instinctively, she clung to Flint’s chest and neck. Like a small child. Or a monkey.

Imagining a monkey hanging onto Flint’s neck momentarily made Em’s sobs hiccup. She laughed. Then went back to sobbing while Flint carried her inside a building she didn’t see through her distress.

“She’s gotten very thin,” Flint murmured to Tracy as they walked together.

“I’m sorry, sir. She wouldn’t eat much on the way here. I’m not sure if she would have eaten at all if I didn’t beg her.”

“Ralph, send for a physician. Tell him to bring sedatives.”

Sedatives? She didn’t like the sound of that. So with an effort, she tried to calm her crying. But she was just so tired. All of it was just… so much…

By the time Flint stopped moving and sat down somewhere, still holding her, her sobs had become sniffles. 

“Would you like me to take her, young master?”

“Baron or Commander is fine.” Flint’s voice rumbled under Em’s ear. “I’ll take care of Emmaline. Find the housekeeper and have her show you your room. I’m sure you’re tired.”

Tracy hesitated and Em blearily opened her eyes. In time to see her maid bow.

“Thank you, my lord. I’ll check on the miss in a bit.”

The door clicked behind Tracy.

Em wasn’t crying anymore. She felt numb. And tired.

Slowly, she looked around. Partially taking in the bare little room with a bed that was too big for it.

It was a comfortable looking bed, though. Even if the room wasn’t luxurious, the bed was. And it had a beautiful blue quilt on it with appliqued pink flowers. She reached down to touch a flower.

“Ralph’s sister made it. Do you like it?”

Em sniffed and nodded. “Ralph has a sister?”

“Older sister. She married one of my other knights and they all came with me here.”

“How did she make it so fast? You didn’t know I was coming before-”

She couldn’t bring herself to mention the memorial. And all the surrounding nonsense.

“Mariam makes quilts to supplement their income. I just bought one of them.”

“Oh.”

He paused, and she could sense his discomfort. He shifted and his arms were stiff. All in all, he was doing great! She leaned her head against his shoulder.

“When I told her who it was for, she added the flowers.”

“Did she charge you for them?”

The unexpectedness of the question made her rigid brother start. Then he gave out a single huff of laughter.

“No. I paid her anyway.”

“I’m sorry.”

Flint shifted, trying to see Em’s face.

“For what?”

A tear slipped out of Em’s eye. “I don’t mean to be a burden.”

“You’re not a burden, Emmaline.”

More silent tears. “But you left me with Felix. And because of me, you lost so much money. And you even had to buy a quilt for me. And I’m being such a baby.”

Flint let out a slow sigh. It rumbled under her ear.

“Emmaline, what happened with Felix and the money was my poor judgement. Not because of anything you did. As for the rest, you’re a child. I’m sure you could take care of yourself if you had to. But its not good for adults to allow that. Do you understand?”

She nodded. Lying.

“Good. Now, stop this nonsense about being a burden. You’re my responsibility. And you wouldn’t be in such a bad state if I’d taken that responsibility more seriously.”

That didn’t make her feel better. But, if it would ease the weight of having to be responsible for her, she could pretend. Just like she’d done for Maddie.

She nodded again and closed her eyes.

The physician came eventually. He prescribed a big bowl of soup and sleep. He also left a small tube of sedative powder she was supposed to put in her milk.

If she’d been left alone to eat, she probably wouldn’t have eaten much. Or taken the sedative. But Flint didn’t leave until she’d finished the entire bowl and drank her milk. At which point, he let Tracy come back to get Em out of her traveling clothes and put her to bed.

He came back into the room one last time before she drifted off. Looking down at her with a grim expression.

She read that expression for what it was.

Concern.

“Flint?”

“Yes, Emmaline?”

She reached up and took his hard, calloused hand.

“Could you call me Em from now on? I don’t want to be Emmaline. Or Em. But I want Em more.”

He raised an eyebrow, and she swore she saw sadness in his eyes.

He squeezed her hand.

“Very well. I’ll call you Em.”

She wasn’t exactly happy when she fell asleep. But it felt good to hear Em again.

Maybe… maybe it’ll help her remember.

***

Strain and worry and stress eventually breaks down even the healthiest system. 

Em was sick for three days.

On the second night, her fever was so high that even the doctor was alarmed. 

“My lord, we need to do a healing,” she vaguely remembered him telling Flint.

At least, she thought she remembered it.

What she really remembered was being infused with mana. The golden thread filtered into her, filling her body. It felt like a sip of hot chocolate. Warm and comforting. Her tremors and huffing slowed.

Then ceased 

Blearily, she opened her eyes. Watching the mage back up and whisper to Flint 

“I'm not sure that's a good sign,” the mage said anxiously. “I've never healed anyone who didn't scream. Even if they were dead unconscious when I started.”

Flint simply patted the man's shoulder and gestured for him to leave. 

Then her brother sat next to her. 

He met her tired eyes, and his gaze softened. Gently, he stroked her hair. 

“It's good to know you can both give and receive on the same basis, little one.”

She had no idea what he was talking about. Her mind and body were too exhausted to understand anything happening around her. Contentedly, she pulled his big hand down under her cheek and fell back to sleep.

The next morning, the third day, she felt much better.

In every way. 

The sun must've risen on her spirits, because it was with great difficulty that Tracy kept Em in bed. Now that Em was recovering, she was itching to get out of bed. And more than once Tracy had to pick her up and take her back. 

Day four, Tracy was the one who was exhausted and slept right through dawn. 

And right through Em crawling out of bed and making a break out her bedroom door.