Chapter 55: Recovering

Chapter 55: Recovering Aramith sat on the edge of his bed, hands running over his face before he pushed himself up. The ache in his limbs had dulled, but the weight in his chest remained. He needed to get cleaned. Mozrael had already gone to do the same. Slow steps took him to the washbasin. He splashed cold water on his face, watching droplets roll down his pale skin as he gripped the porcelain edges. His reflection stared back, thinner than before, dark strands of hair falling over tired eyes. He exhaled sharply, as if trying to shake off the heaviness clinging to him, and reached for the towel. By the time he had dressed, a soft knock sounded at his door. "Aramith?" Mozrael’s voice was quiet but steady. He turned, watching as the door creaked open and she stepped inside. She looked... relieved, maybe even a little hesitant. "I’m going to join Mother and Father for breakfast," she told him, her hands clasped together. "Yours is on the way." A small kindness, no pressure. Aramith lowered his gaze to his sleeves, adjusting the fabric absentmindedly. A part of him wanted to accept that—to retreat back into the silence of his room, away from their eyes. It felt comfortable, but another part of him, buried beneath the guilt and self-loathing, longed for something else. He shook his head. "No... I’ll go too." Mozrael blinked, taken aback for a moment. "You...what?" She asked in a whisper, unsure of what she heard. Aramith smiled. "Let’s go. For breakfast." She stared for a second longer before a small smile of her own formed. When Mozrael stepped into the dining hall, Henndar and Kethra were already seated, expecting her. Henndar smiled back when he saw her wide smile. "Seems you’re in a very good mood today. Does that mean your brother’s doing better?" Mozrael’s smile only grew wider but she said nothing. Henndar and Kethra chuckled, but their eyes widened slightly as Aramith followed behind. Kethra stilled. The sight of him—leaner than before, his once sharp presence softened by exhaustion—made something twist painfully in her chest. Yet, beneath that, warmth stirred. He was here. He was trying. She swallowed thickly, blinking away the sting in her eyes, and instead, she smiled. Henndar, too, was surprised. His instinct was to make some lighthearted remark, to fill the space with something familiar. But as Aramith quietly took his seat, the words caught in his throat. "You’re here." was all he could manage. The silence wasn’t awkward—it was peaceful, filled with something unspoken yet understood. For the first time in a long while, they shared a meal, smiling genuinely as they ate. The soft clinking of utensils filled the space as they ate, the warmth of the meal settling into them. Kethra occasionally glanced toward Aramith, as if ensuring he was really here, really eating. Mozrael, though clearly relieved, kept her focus on her plate, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of her fork. Aramith took slow, careful bites. The food tasted fine—better than he expected—but his stomach still felt uncertain, like it wasn’t sure whether to accept it. He kept going anyway. Henndar set his spoon down with a quiet clink, drawing their attention. He exhaled, tone careful but expectant."We’ll be going to see Lia after this." He paused and Kethra looked at him. "Like we have the past few days." he finished. All eyes settled on Aramith. He hesitated, fingers lightly pressing into his lap. He had known this was coming, but still, the words sent a dull ache through him. He could already imagine it- standing by her side, watching the slow rise and fall of her breath, hearing nothing but the steady beat of guilt hammering in his skull. "I’m sorry," he murmured, barely above a whisper. "I... need more time." No one pressured him. Kethra gave a small nod. Henndar exhaled quietly and accepted it. After breakfast, Aramith stepped outside. The morning air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and blooming flowers. He walked along the garden path, hands slipping into his pockets. The soft hum of insects, the distant chirping of birds—it was all strangely grounding. Minutes passed. Then nearly an hour. He heard footsteps approaching and glanced to the side as Mozrael came to walk beside him, matching his pace without a word. They wandered together, the silence unspoken but comfortable. "The flowers are really blooming now," she murmured after a while, her gaze tracing the vibrant petals swaying in the breeze. "And the insects are everywhere. It’s nice seeing them work so hard." She chuckled, not at the insects, but the excitement of having Aramith around once again. Aramith followed her gaze, watching a small bee hover near a cluster of blossoms. "I suppose," he said, voice softer than before. Mozrael smiled faintly. "It’s peaceful." He let the quiet settle between them before giving a small nod. "...Yeah." For the first time in a long while, the weight of being outside had lessened. The sun wasn’t so bad. The day passed slowly and steadily, with Aramith and Mozrael spending most of their time together. At the moment, Mozrael sat beside him, her gaze flitting between her brother and the book resting on her lap From a distance, Kethra observed them, standing near a balcony where the cool evening air brushed against her. A small smile touched her lips as she watched Aramith move more easily, his recovery evident in the way he spoke and carried himself. Yet, despite her yearning to be near them, she stayed back. This moment was for them. Henndar approached with his usual composed demeanor in place. "Things are starting to look better." Kethra glanced at him briefly before turning her eyes back to the children. "How do you always find me?" she asked, tilting her head slightly. "Don’t you have more important matters to attend to?" Henndar gave a small chuckle. "I could ask you the same thing. But what’s more important when I have you to think about." She didn’t respond immediately, instead watching as Mozrael nudged Aramith over something he said. Eventually, she sighed. "I suppose it’s hard to look away when something beautiful is right in front of you." She could feel Henndar’s eyes on her, feel his smile broadening. "Maybe that’s why I’m staring at you." "Oh shut up." She elbowed him, and he chuckled "I was talking about the children." "But I can be your child. Spoil me" "What?" "I’ll also be your child so you look at me like that all the time." "Are you hearing yourself?" She laughed as Henndar tried to dramatize how the children behaved. This made her laugh more, and a passing soldier saw the scene. He smiled as he watched the King behaving like a child. Guess we’re all little boys on the inside, huh? Maybe I’ll try this when I get home. He tried to imagine it, but quickly killed the idea. My wife will kill me. Henndar suddenly turned to the soldier with a predatory gaze. The soldier jumped and tried to quickly walk away, but Henndar wasn’t letting him go so easily. He waved a hand at him. The soldier felt dizzy and suddenly he couldn’t remember why he was walking fast. He looked back and saw the King and Queen. The king had a serious look, but it seemed the Queen was holding back a smile. It was a peaceful sight. He wanted to watch them for a while, but a voice screamed in his head. Get To Work! Kethra stifled a laugh as the soldier rushed off. "Was that necessary?" Henndar nodded, and for a while, they simply stood there, watching over the children in silence. As the day drew to a close, Aramith and Mozrael walked down the hallway towards their rooms. The orbs lining the ceiling cast long shadows, the warm glow setting a calming atmosphere. As they passed by one of the guest rooms, Aramith’s gaze lingered on the closed door. He didn’t ask, but Mozrael, noticing his curiosity, answered anyway. "Father has a guest staying there." Aramith didn’t press further, though his mind briefly wandered to who it could be before they continued on. Inside the room, Hordin stood stiffly at the edge of the bed, his back straight as if proper posture alone could save him from execution. The dim orblight cast uneasy shapes on the walls, making the room feel smaller than it was. Across from him, a soldier leaned casually against the table, arms crossed, eyes sharp. "You’re still under suspicion," the soldier stated, voice firm but not with evil intentions. "Now that those two are recovering, all eyes are on you. If anything seems off, if you so much as breathe suspiciously, you’ll regret it." Hordin swallowed hard, nodding, but inside, his thoughts were far less obedient. Okay. Just sit here. Don’t look nervous. Or do look nervous? But not too nervous. But what’s the right amount of nervous? As the soldier continued talking, a sudden movement against Hordin’s ribs nearly sent him flying off the bed. Oh no. No, no, no. The doll. It was still under his clothes. And now, it was moving. A ticklish sensation crawled up his side, making his body twitch. Don’t laugh. Do. Not. Laugh. His lips trembled, his body stiff as the doll inched toward his back. It was doing this on purpose, he was sure of it. Am I going to die because of laughter? His ancestors must have sinned terribly for him to deserve this. Then it slipped- -and dropped straight down. The moment it hit the floor, a chill ran through his spine. Oh no. Hordin knew he was dead. He wanted to look down, his neck itched to look down, but he couldn’t. His eyes snapped forward, pretending to listen as the soldier continued, but his focus was entirely on the horror unfolding behind him. The doll, silent as death, was moving, crawling towards the door like some small, possessed cat. His breath caught in his throat. No, no, no, stop! You stay right there! But of course, it didn’t listen. [I don’t think dolls can hear thoughts?] He twitched. His fingers clenched against his knee. Why must you betray me now? After all we’ve been through?! The doll reached the door. Hordin’s soul left his body. The soldier shifted slightly, and Hordin saw it. The man’s body language changed. He was about to turn. Hordin panicked. "I—I understand!" he blurted out, his voice an embarrassing mix of forced confidence and sheer terror. It sounded high-pitched. I sound like a girl The soldier raised a brow, caught off guard by the sudden declaration. "You... understand?" Hordin nodded too quickly. "Yes. Yes, I do. I- I understood." The soldier squinted at him, clearly suspicious of how unnatural that response was, but after a moment, he simply exhaled through his nose and shook his head. "Good. Keep it that way." The boy is just scared He turned towards the door, but lingered for a beat, glancing at it with a small frown. Hadn’t it been closed when he came in? Or was he remembering wrong? Hordin, meanwhile, was experiencing every stage of grief at once. This is how I die. Not in battle, not in some grand scheme. Just like this. Because of a doll with no sense of self-control. Then, just as the soldier was about to fully turn, the doll waved at him. It was at the soldier’s feet! Hordin felt his heart implode. Just get out of there! It disappeared behind the door just as the soldier finally turned and left, leaving Hordin standing there, stiff and trembling. As soon as he was alone, his knees gave out, and he collapsed onto the bed, eyes wide, staring at the ceiling. My heart...