Chapter Fifty-seven

None of them slept well, and because Volencia was now complaining about random pain all over her body, especially in her lower stomach, Damion had them moving slowly to make sure that she wasn’t jostled around too much. He didn’t bother to saddle her horse. Morning Star was a smoother gate and was less likely to chomp at the bit. All the extra provisions went on Dark Night instead. Settling onto Morning Star with his princess in his lap. She kept her cloak wrapped tightly around her, even though the day wasn’t particularly cold. She even took Damion’s cloak to cover her legs.

Because of this it took an extra day and a half to get back to Thambair. He was cutting it close, Claven was meeting everyone tomorrow, and Volencia wasn’t well. He had no idea what he should do. As they made it to the gates, the soldiers collected there saw them coming and took to the sides of the streets in a fanfare of welcome to their Princess. Damion stopped at the front of the line, where a Lutenient held a fist to his heart. “Jerven, I need you to send someone ahead to get the castle healers together, our Princess is not feeling well, and will need to be seen immediately.”

Lutenient Jerven thumped his fist against his sternum, nodding at the soldier standing beside him. The young elf bowed low before turning on his heals and running off. “We have a healer inside the baracks, do you need for me to call her out?” His eyes wandered over Princess Volencia wrapped in her cloak cacoon despite it being a warm day. “What happened?”

“She fell ill on our way back. She has fever but is complaining she is freezing. I think it would be best to see the healers she’s familiar with up at the castle.” Volencia squirmed in his arms, and he leaned down speaking softly into her ear. “Unless you think you need immediate attention?”

“No,” she croaked out, “I want to see Gladia.” She gripped his shirt, tears wetting his tunic.

“Okay, we’ll get you to the casle. Thank you, Leutenant.” Damion nodded.

“Yes, Sir.” He hit his fist against his chest, as Damion started the slow easy walk through the city back toward the castle. No one paid them any mind. They looked like regular folk going about their business. Damion had actually been surprised the soldiers realized it was them. He figured someone on look out duty must have recognized him as they approached, which meant it would have likely been a new recruit.

“Damion?” Volencia cried. “I think something’s really wrong with the baby.”

“Shh… everything is going to be okay sweet heart. Please don’t stress yourself out over something we don’t know.” Unfortuntely, he believed she was right and his arm wrapped around her more tightly.

“What if I lose him? You won’t have to marry me anymore.” Damion frowned, starting to feel emotional too.

“I’ll still want to marry you, love. There is nothing in the world that would change that.”

“What if we find out I can never have children? Why would you still want me broken like that?” She was starting to paw at his chest. He could feel her panic rising. Her breaths were becoming shallow and fast.

“Sweetheart. Calm down.” He raised her face up to look him in the eye and wiped away her tears. “There is nothing that will ever make me not want you. I swear. If we couldn’t have our own babies, we’ll adopt and be just as happy.”

“A royal family that can’t produce an heir is doomed and cast in shame. What if it’s not the same. With every step I take, I make everything worse. You don’t deserve—” Damion gently placed a finger to her lips. She was sobbing between her words.

“There is no shame in adopting. I am adopted, remember. So is Travion. I’m worried about you, but it’s not worse. Not right now. We just need to find out what’s happening. For all we know, it could be my fault.” He soothed her hair and she closed her eyes, whatever energy she had to argue gone. Her fingers slid from his shirt into her lap. He’s relieved she’s fallen asleep, but it concerns him too. Her breathing is shallow, and she’s shivering in his arms.

As they made it to the gates of the castle grounds, a soldier jogged up to the side of the path. “Master, the guard has been informed you were coming. The healers were brought to the sitting room on the first floor in the west wing. We didn’t want you to have to go through the palace. We can have them relocated to her room if you want though.” It was Tatron, the soldier he bested with the switch before they left for Samanthia.

“No.” Damion shook his head, a bit irritated by being called Master. “I would much prefer to get her laid down as soon as possible. Can you have someone take care of our mounts and tack, and have our things brought up to my room? I’ll put everything away later.”

“Yes, Master.” Tatron jogged the rest of the way up the path by their side. Stopping at the base of the stairs, Damion threw his leg over Morning Star’s neck, Tatron raised his arms, “I can help.”

“I don’t want to jostle her around too much.” He slid from the mare’s back, landing softly on the balls of his feet. Tatron touched Damion’s shoulder lightly, but he didn’t really need assistance with being stabilized. “And please, just call me Damion.”

Tatron bowed, “There are far too many things I look forward to learning from you. And your skill is too far above. Until I know what you know, Master will have to do.”

Damion chuckled, shaking his head. “When you are done, can you head down to stand by in the hall incase we need anything else?”

“Of course. Do you need anything else before I start?” Tatron asked, excitedly.

“No. Thank you.”