“I said I’m fine!” he snapped, batting at the empty space between my hand and his shoulder, irritation rolling off him in waves. It lasted barely a second before he flinched, blinking as if recovering from a trance. His eyes darted to mine, glazed with regret. “Cair, I-I’m so sorry. I… I don’t know where that came from.” He placed a hand against the side of his head, rubbing lightly. “I’m just tired, but I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.” I shushed him gently, gravitating closer but staying aware of his personal space. If he felt overwhelmed or cornered, the last thing I wanted was to make it worse. “Tell me what’s going on in your head, sweetheart.”

“I don’t know,” he murmured, his bottom lip wobbling. “Everything and nothing. My skin just felt too tight and it was like I was lost in a crowd, so I panicked. I didn’t mean to.” He closed the gap between us, plastering himself to my chest, his arms circling my waist. I hugged him immediately. “Please don’t stop fussing over me,” he mumbled. “I don’t know why that happened, but it really wasn’t me. I love that you fuss.”

I stroked the back of his head, awed that instead of caring for his own feelings, he was worried that he’d offended me. It was far from the case. I was concerned. Perhaps it was too early to resume our journey, or to keep going at all. I should have recognized sooner that he needed more rest. His sleep had been broken by whatever thoughts plagued him, and he’d barely eaten enough to build up the energy he’d lost in the ambush. The poor creature was running on empty, and I hadn’t done a damn thing about it.

How could he be blamed for his outburst?

“We can stay another night, if you wish? Or return to the palace?” I offered, smoothing a hand over his back. “There are no obligations. Whatever you like.”

He shook his head against me. “No, I’m okay. I think I need some fresh air, and to not be sitting around. My nerves were already frayed about potentially meeting my dad, but now that we’re actually on the road, everything just feels too real, and those reaper things fucked with my head and kinda sent me into overdrive. The thoughts have been whirling round and round like a goddamn washing machine—what if you’d been hurt and I could’ve stopped it by telling you what I’d seen at the market? What if my dad turns me away and all this is for nothing? What if this happens again and we’re not so lucky? I think it all just got too heavy, and being cooped up in here isn’t doing me any favors.”