Chapter 117: Exactly as Possessive as It Suits Me
When Nathan woke, the light from the window had changed.
The narrow strip entering through the curtain was at a different angle. More yellow. Lower. The afternoon sun descending.
Nathan stayed motionless for nearly a minute before attempting to move. Assessing the pain. The right flank pulsed slow but without the acute urgency of the previous hours. The ribs protested any attempt at deep breathing. The left arm was stiff. The right thigh less so.
But he was alive.
And the fatigue had dropped from the level of “imminent collapse” to the level of “I need more sleep but functional for now.”
He turned his head toward the window.
Then toward the door.
Liaraen was sitting in a chair beside the bed.
Nathan blinked to make sure.
Yes. Liaraen. Awake. With a small book open on her lap. With her green hair pulled back in a loose braid. With her clothes changed into what Nathan recognized as one of the simplest blouses from the wardrobe Lady Marell had prepared for her in Aelthoren.
She looked at him.
“Nathan.”
“Sprout.”
“Selene said I shouldn’t come looking for you. But I came anyway.”
“How long did I sleep?”
“Nine hours.”
“And you?”
“Seven. I woke up two hours ago. I ate. I changed. I came here.”
“And Selene?”
“Downstairs. Preparing something. She says when you wake up you have to eat before talking.”
“Alright.”
Nathan tried to sit up slightly. His ribs sent him a sharp pang. He stopped.
Liaraen stood up. She approached. She helped him raise the pillows and tilt his torso the minimum so he could eat without straining the position.
When he was half-sitting, Nathan looked at her.
“Sprout.”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
“Nathan. We already agreed you wouldn’t thank me for what comes from my decision.”
“This is different.”
“How?”
“This is you sitting in the chair beside my bed for two hours without me knowing. That part wasn’t necessary. That part was yours by personal decision, not by the guardianship.”
Liaraen looked at him.
For a few seconds.
Then she looked away. Toward the window.
“Alright.”
“Alright what?”
“Alright, I’ll accept the thanks for that part.”
“Good.”
Silence.
Nathan watched her in profile. With the afternoon light falling obliquely on her green hair and marking the line of her jaw against the window.
Sprout.
We’re in Greywall.
We won the hard part of the return.
Let’s go.
After approximately a minute of silence, Selene came upstairs. Nathan heard the footsteps on the staircase before seeing her enter. She carried a tray with a large bowl of hot soup, freshly baked bread, water, and a small cup of an amber liquid Nathan didn’t identify.
She set the tray on the small table beside the bed.
“Nathan.”
“Selene.”
“Eat first. The bowl is for you entire. The bread you share with Liaraen. The water you finish before sleeping again. The amber cup is for after eating; it’s an infusion that accelerates the internal knitting of the ribs.”
“Alright.”
“Don’t talk while you eat. We’ll talk afterward. Everything Liaraen needed to report about the fight, she’s already told me during the last two hours while she was downstairs with me. I also need to hear you for the report to be complete, but that can wait until tomorrow if your body asks for it.”
Nathan nodded.
Selene started to turn to leave. Then she stopped at the door.
She turned again.
And with a voice slightly lower than usual:
“Nathan.”
“Yes?”
“I’m glad you’re both alive.”
Nathan looked at her.
Selene had never said a direct emotional sentence during the months they’d known each other. Everything had always been operational, strategic, technical.
This sentence was different.
Nathan nodded.
Slowly.
“I appreciate it.”
“Eat.”
Selene left.
Nathan was left with Liaraen and the tray.
He lifted the spoon with his right arm. The movement cost him but was functional. He put the spoon in the bowl. The soup smelled of chicken with green herbs. Small chopped vegetables floating. Small fat glistening on the surface.
He tasted it.
Good.
Better than good.
The first real meal in thirty hours.
Liaraen watched him eat for the first three or four bites without saying anything. Then she took a piece of bread and began eating too, without much ceremony.
During the next ten minutes the two ate in silence.
When Nathan finished the soup, Liaraen handed him the amber cup without him asking. He drank it. It tasted of bitter herb with a sweet undertone that partially compensated for the main flavor. He drank it whole.
After that, Nathan rested his head on the pillow.
He closed his eyes for a moment.
He opened them again.
He looked at Liaraen.
“Sprout.”
“Yes?”
“Tomorrow we report everything to Selene.”
“Tomorrow, yes.”
“And after that, when I can walk, I go to the guild.”
“In five days. Minimum. Selene was clear.”
“Alright. In five days.”
“And during those five days you rest, eat, and don’t do anything that requires getting up more than necessary to go to the bathroom.”
“Alright.”
“I’ll handle everything else.”
Nathan looked at her.
For a long moment.
“Everything else?”
“Groceries. Basic communications. If any message arrives for you, I receive it and pass it to you. If Mira asks why you haven’t shown up at the guild, I invent a plausible excuse. If anyone from the Veil needs to speak with you, I handle them first and filter what can wait until you’re better.”
“Sprout.”
“Yes?”
“That’s full diplomatic work.”
“It is.”
“It’s exactly what you were trained for during sixteen years.”
“Correct.”
“Alright.”
Silence.
Then Nathan added:
“Sprout.”
“Yes?”
“Mira is going to want to see me.”
“I know.”
“And if she comes here looking for me?”
Liaraen thought about it.
Then she spoke with a frankness Nathan recognized as the kind she used only when she’d decided not to filter.
“If she comes here, I receive her. I explain that you’re injured. I give her the summarized version of what happened. And I ask her if she wants to wait until you can see her, or if she prefers to leave a message.”
“And what do you expect her to choose?”
“That she insists on seeing you.”
“And if she insists?”
Liaraen looked away toward the window again.
“If she insists, I let her in. But I stay in the room during the entire visit.”
Nathan looked at her.
Without saying anything for a moment.
Then he spoke.
“Sprout.”
“Yes?”
“Are you telling me you’re going to chaperone?”
“I’m telling you I’m going to chaperone.”
“Alright.”
“Problem?”
“No. I’m asking to confirm.”
“Confirmed.”
Nathan laughed softly. His ribs protested but less than the first time.
“Sprout.”
“Yes?”
“You’re more possessive than I expected.”
Liaraen turned her head toward him.
With her pale green eyes fixed.
Without apologizing for what the previous sentence had implicitly admitted.
“Nathan.”
“Yes?”
“I’m exactly as possessive as it suits me to be for the guardianship.”
“Alright.”
“Problem?”
“No. I was asking to confirm.”
“Confirmed.”
Silence again.
Then Nathan closed his eyes.
But not to sleep.
To process.
Sprout is taking on a full diplomatic role over the next five days as an active guardian.
And she’s also admitting she’s going to filter interactions with Mira deliberately.
And the two things are intertwined. The guardianship and the possession.
Alright.
I’m not going to touch that now.
Let’s go.
Nathan opened his eyes.
“Sprout.”
“Yes?”
“I’m going to sleep again.”
“Alright.”
“Wake me if Selene needs something urgent. If not, at dawn.”
“Alright.”
Liaraen stayed standing beside the bed. She waited for Nathan to close his eyes. Then, carefully, she adjusted the blanket over his shoulders so he wouldn’t uncover himself during the night.
Then she sat back down in the chair beside the bed.
She opened the book.
And she continued reading while Nathan fell asleep.