CHAPTER FORTY.

(MELIORA'S POV)


I fled from the cabin, my feet pounding against the sandy soil as I ran blindly, desperate to put as much distance as possible between myself and Prince Luther.

My chest heaved with ragged gasps, equal parts exertion and the lingering tendrils of panic still squeezing my lungs in a vise-grip.

At first, I had no particular destination in mind beyond the primal urge to simply escape. But as the initial adrenaline rush reduced, I realized I had to stop running in order not to startle others.

Slowing from my mad sprint to a slower purposeful stride, I decided to return back to the nursery where I can safely spend the night.


By the time the glow of the candles came from the windows of the nursery, I sighed in relief.


I knocked on the door and waited for it to be opened. A few minutes ticked by before it creaked open, revealing the wizened visage of Elder Morris. Her perpetually furrowed brow knitted further at the sight of me hovering on the threshold.

"Liora? I thought you'd headed back to your lodgings to rest for the evening," she stated in a reedy tone edged with naked surprise.

Clearing my scratchy throat, I fixed what I hoped was a placid expression across my features as I met the matriarch's piercing stare steadily.

"Yes, well, I'd intended as much..." I tempered with a delicate shrug, struggling to imbue my voice with an airy note of nonchalance.

"But then I remembered young Marcus would still require monitoring through the night. I figured it might be best if I remained here to assist."

I lied easily, desperate to find an escape from Luther. The old woman studied me. Then her features relaxed in a smile.

"Well now, isn't that genuinely too thoughtful and kind of you?" She remarked at last in a tone of obvious approval, shifting aside to allow my entrance past the threshold.

"Might be you have one of the rarer nurturing souls destined for this kind of work after all."

Relief washed over me in an almost palpable wave as the elderly wolf's censuring appraisal seemed to recede.

"Why don't you take over young Marcus' bedside for now?" Morris suggested brusquely, gesturing towards the bank of candles flickering merrily atop a low table beside the slumbering boy's cot.

"I could certainly use a break after today's demanding tasks." She said,

"Of course," I replied with a dutiful bob of my head. "Rest well, Elder. I'll remain with Marcus and help as much as I can." I affirmed.

With one nod of affirmation, she turned and shuffled out into the shadowed hallway, pulling the door firmly shut behind her.

For a long, suspended beat, I stood motionless beside Marcus' bedside, simply allowing the muffled stillness and isolation of the space to blanket me in its embrace.

Then, finally expelling the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding in a quiet whoosh, I slowly lowered myself into the woven chair positioned intimately close.

The soft snuffles and shallow puffs of the boy's steady breathing provided a soothing backdrop, lulling my battered psyche into an almost meditative trance.

My eyelids drooped lower with each passing minute, the exertions of my turbulent night rapidly catching up to me.

I let my head lie by the edge of his bed and rested too. The next thing I know, the boy's whimper made me open my eyes.

"Mmm...wanna...pee..." he mumbled in a slurred whine, eyelids fluttering but not quite managing to open fully.

When I looked at the wall clock, it was near 2am. That meant I had rested for about 5 hrs.

In an instant, I got up on my heels. Leaning forward eagerly.


"Shhh, shhh...it's alright, little one, I'm here," I crooned in my most soothing tones. "Just take it slow and easy. I'll help get you to the toilet."

Nodding meekly, he allowed me to help lever him into a sitting position and slowly swing his spindly legs to dangle over the edge of the mattress.

With one arm looped securely around his narrow waist, I guided the boy in a shambling gait towards the screened partition at the far side of the chamber.

Once he'd accomplished his personal task and we reemerged, Marcus' steps seemed marginally steadier, less like a newborn colt testing its legs for the first time.

"How are you feeling now?" I asked softly as I deposited him back into the cocoon of clean linens with gentleness.

"Hungry," the boy croaked out simply, his lashes already fluttering in telltale weariness once more.

Pursing my lips, I scanned the room before at last locating the covered bowl of broth and bread chunks resting on a low table near the headboard.

Without a word, I retrieved the simple fare and settled back into my chair, scooping up a spoonful of the now-tepid liquid.

"Here, now...just a few sips to get something back into your belly," I murmured in a low tone as I brought the utensil to Marcus' chapped lips.

He opened compliantly, allowing the warm broth to trickle past before releasing a soft hum of approval. We continued on in this manner until Marcus finally turned his head aside, having consumed nearly half the soup.

"That's my brave little warrior," I praised in hushed tones, lovingly brushing the damp curls back from his brow once more. "Now rest up, hmm? We'll get you back on your feet before you know it."

A tiny, sleepy smile tugged at the corners of Marcus' mouth as his eyes slid shut once more. Within minutes, his breathing had evened back out into the shallow, steady cadence of deep slumber.

Releasing my own tension in the form of a weary sigh, I took a moment simply to watch the gentle rise and fall of the boy's narrow chest.

A profound sense of serenity I hadn't felt in longer than I could recall gradually seeped into my very marrow.

Here, I was at last safe from the prince and his unmannered demand. With a weary sigh, I laid my head back on the side of his bed and rested from my tension and fatigue too.