Daian watches her play from his sickbed, the sight inspiring a tired smile. His wound has closed and appears to be healing. The color has returned to his skin, and he’s remained conscious since he first woke, but he still can’t stand under his own power. In fact, beyond turning his head and raising his arms, both of which seem to require immense effort, Daian hasn’t been able to move much at all. He claims he can still feel his legs all the way down to the tip of his toes and his strength will return in time, but with each passing hour Lexi’s concern rises.

She finishes the song with a subtle flourish, her fingertips dancing briefly against the trio of taut strings and for a moment it sounds like rain falling on rose petals.

Daian claps his hands together, able to produce only the barest applause.

“You were right,” he says, still sounding impossibly weak. “You really are terrible at that.”

Lexi laughs, and it’s the flavor of the spontaneous laughter that surprises her with its unabashed volume and intensity. She raises a hand to her mouth, almost embarrassed by the outburst.

“Does laughter violate your formal training?” Daian asks.

Lexi nods. “Entirely.”

“We could do with less formality in this nation.”

“I agree.”

Lexi removes her hand, a silent smile left in the wake of the unrestrained burst of laughter.

“Can I bring you anything?” she asks.

“You’ve done more than enough for me.”

She frowns. “That might be true if we ignored the fact that I caused your current condition. I have to believe those other Aegins attacked you because you took up Brio’s investigation.”

Daian shakes his head. “This wasn’t your fault. You only asked for my help. You couldn’t know how deep and how vile the corruption among my own people was.”

“But I’ve cost you so much—”

“You only asked me to do my duty. You reminded me what that duty is. I’m grateful to you for that.”

Lexi doesn’t know what to say to that. Her hand travels across the bed sheets and lays over his, almost hovering rather than touching.

Daian turns his palm up and clasps his fingers around hers. His grip surprises Lexi with its strength, but she’s more taken with the direction of the moment. She deftly slips her hand from his and sets her reed aside.

“When you’ve fully healed,” she says quickly, “I promise you we’ll make certain you’re able to return to—”

The loud and unexpected echo of a heavy wooden creak rising from the bottom of the tower interrupts her next words. They can both hear heavy footfalls clacking against the stone floor in the silence that follows.

“That must be Taru,” Lexi reasons.

“It’s too soon,” Daian says. “Far too soon.”

Lexi stands. “I will go see to it.”

“No,” Daian insists.