Golden light burst into her room, but Lily was deep in the throes of her nightmares to sense it. The glowstone was thrown unto her dresser as Landros reached her bedside in search of her malady.

Sheets were strewn about the floor. Lily's cries and gasps filled the room. Rivulets of sweat streamed down her face and pooled at her neck and collarbone.

"Wake, girl! Wake!" Landros demanded, but she did no such thing.

She thrashed about her bed and tears added to the moisture of her pillow. Her skin was fire to his touch. He shook her once, twice, and still she did not wake. Against his better judgement, he placed his hand atop her feverish forehead and allowed a small pulse of energy to emanate from him and into her.

In an instant the nightmare was gone. Her thrashing stopped. A soothing wave filled her with comfort. Her screaming stopped. The heat that had ravished her body withdrew. Her breathing grew calm and steady. Save for her damp clothing and matted hair, no remnants of her troubled sleep were to be found.

Landros removed his hand from her forehead and gently took her hands in his. "Open your eyes." In that moment, his voice brought an unexpected sense of safety. The words were a command, but it sounded like a request. There was an unspoken permission to use him to see and she did.

Sight returned to her. Ironically, the mighty prince of Kai'lym knelt before her, a simple human. It wasn't a face devoid of emotion that greeted her either. Hooded eyes studied her openly, and for once, she did believe it was without suspicion.

"Are you well enough to sit?" Concern seeped in every word.

"Yes, I believe so." When she made to sit, she realized that her night gown had risen during her sleep and much of her thighs were exposed. Mortified, she quickly shoved it down with one hand as she sat. Self-consciously, she ran a hand through her mangled hair.

"Stay still." The voice of authority returned.

Involuntarily, the corner of her mouth tilted though she quickly hid it. Landros released her hand and she was once again blind. But she did not need her 'Sight' to follow his movements. Intuition shaped her prediction of what he was doing.

The sound of the running of water in the other room reached her ears followed by the shuffling of feet as he approached her. He placed the small basin full of water atop her dresser before wringing out a damp cloth.

"If you'll permit me," methodically, he began to dap her face, removing any traces of sweat. The unexpected gentleness with which he tended to her surprised her almost as much as his words. This was not the cold and aloof Prince Landros she was familiar with. As if a different persona had taken over him. One, she could not reconcile with the one she knew.

With his sole focus on his patient, Landros continued to work in silence. He did not press her for answers or asked questions. It was an unmistakable kindness. When he reached her collarbone and shoulders, she took his hand. "I can continue."

"Very well. I will get you a clean gown."

Strength returned to her. "I can change myself. I'm blind not a complete invalid. Or do you plan on changing me as well?" Lily tossed the cloth to where she had seen Landros place the basin. She missed.

"It was only a nightmare, nothing more!" She refused to admit to him how frequently it had haunted her in the past weeks. How each time she faced it, it became harder and harder to break free. How it unraveled a stitch at a time any mending to her wounds. Not the physical ones, but...others.

But tonight, the dream had changed somehow. It felt...real. All too real. And it left her feeling all the more powerless. So many weeks had gone by and still no word from Aurora. Her anxiety over their separation had manifested and merged with her time spent as Lord Fennaris' prisoner.

After pulling the nightgown from the dresser, Landros spun and flung it on her bedside. Out of reach from her Sight, she had not seen how, only moments before with his back to her, he had momentarily leaned on the dresser, knuckles white in stress, for support. No, she did not see him struggle to regain his strength and steady his breathing.

"Yes. One that gripped you so sharply it required the last bit of strength within me to wake you." This was the Landros she knew, the sharp-tongued prince who viewed her as beneath him. As if her mere presence poisoned the air he breathed. "You're acting like a child whose pride has been injured."

"My pride! What about you?"

But he did not allow her to spew out any accusations.

"It is the middle of the night, and your screams were sure to wake the healers surrounding you. For the work they do, their rest is too important to be disrupted. Least of all by a raving human." He made the word sound like an insult. 

It felt like an insult.

"Lucky for me," he didn't bother to hide the sarcasm, "that your room is adjacent to my private study. Behind that wall," he pointed and in two strides reached her huffing, "on which your bed resides, therein lies the one and only place that I find peace! And it was destroyed tonight by your screaming." He hissed and towered over her.

She had no idea, that in the days she had not seen him, and there had been plenty, so many that she had begun to wonder if he would ever attempt to heal her again, that he'd been right next to her all along. A room away.

 "Is that why you placed me here, prince? You don't trust me so you're spying on me?" Hurt and anger over her privacy being invaded made her jut out her chin in challenge. Outrage, caused her to reach out for him and use her Sight to stare him down. Her hand bumped into his arm and she held on.

It was then that she really took notice of him. His arms were bare and though narrow, they were toned, she admitted begrudgingly to herself. Not what she expected from a healer. The long slate tunic that he wore bore no sleeves and had been left unlaced, revealing a considerable view of his torso. It was impossible to miss the shadows and indentations of his chiseled chest. Even with the dim light from the glowstone.

Loose, white linen pants hung low at his sharp hips and the cuffs draped part of his bare feet. It was far departure from the immaculate and cultured air of his richly robes.

No intricate braids flanked his angular face as she had grown accustomed to seeing him. His hair, a sheet of darkest night and smoother than silk, at least she presumed. And although anger mirrored in his eyes, it did not hold the same fire she'd witness on other occasions.

Purple smudges, she'd not seen before, hung beneath them like moored ships at twilight. He looked worn and tired. The hallow of his cheeks had grown deeper and in their exchange of words his breathing had become labored.

There was only one conclusion. "You're sick." All the will to fight left her. She was tempted to touch his face, to offer comfort as he had to her, but reigned in the instinct knowing it would not be appreciated or accepted.

He cocked a brow at the shift in conversation. "It is no concern of yours, human."

"Why have not one of your healers seen to you, Prince? Or yourself for that matter."

He scoffed at her ignorance. "There is nothing to be done." Finally, she noticed the exhaustion in his voice. In his posture that seemed to droop even as they spoke.

There was no one to help him. They were alone. But Prince Landros was never alone. Wherever he went an entourage of guards hovered over him. Yet, they were nowhere to be found. "Where are your sentries?"

"I sent them away."

"You should rest."

A pained laugh escaped him. Landros turned to the ceiling and beyond to the heavens beseechingly before he shut his eyes. Whatever had maintained his strength up until that point, finally gave out. His knees buckled and he collapsed to the ground, taking her with him and missing the comfort of a soft landing on the bed by inches. 

UMMPPHH!

They landed solidly on their rears, and though bruising, she was certain it was no worse than their pained egos. Their legs sprawled and tangled before them. They grunted in unison. She supposed it was true: misery did love company. 

His head rested on the edge of the bed looking at the ceiling. Unlike her, he was not amused. She then turned on her knees to him. "Clearly this is a sign that you need to rest." She sat on her heels in front of him, and assessed him once more. "Why are you so weak?" For a moment, she thought he was about to answer, but he remained silent. 

She sighed in acceptance. Some things were simply too difficult to discuss. Instead she offered, "How can I help you?"

After a deep breath, he lifted his head and found her studying him. "Do not pity me, girl."

"I wouldn't dream of it, prince." They were on familiar footing.

A pause. "There is something in my study that can help the both of us. Though, I do not see how either one of us is in any condition to retrieve it."

"Then we will help each other. Come on. Lean on me." Determined to be of use, she pulled him up to sit on the bed, all the while sharing his sight. She looked to the clean pale blue gown scattered beside him with longing.

"Go ahead and dress. You have no need to protect your modesty. I have seen a nude female body before."

"It is not polite to brag, prince. That much you should have learned from your cousin." Her lips parted in a teasing smile; perhaps a bit of levity at his expense would ease some of the tension. Or at least, cause him to be flustered.

"I, that is to say, — that is not what I meant. What I meant to say—"

She had succeeded in stumping the great Prince of Kai'lym. A brief and small victory. "I know what you meant. Still, you have not seen mine." Lily did not know from where her bravado sprang as she walked around the bed with his hand to guide her and his back to her. "So close your eyes. Prince."

Obediently, he hung his head and closed his eyes, but waited until she released his hand to speak. "How do you know that I will not open my eyes and turn around, now that you cannot see?"

Her soiled gown swooshed to the floor. Too late to be stopped. If he turned now, he would see every last inch of her. However, if he expected her to rush in embarrassment, she refused to be coward. "I suppose, I will just have to trust in your princely honor."

She couldn't say for certain, as her head emerged from the clean gown and the fabric rustled around her while her arms found the sleeves, but she thought she heard a small chuckle. Landros trailed on, "Then you are fortunate that it is not my cousin sitting on your bed."

After making sure the gown did reach its proper length and covered her, she used her feet to find the thin slippers she nightly left out of habit next to the bed. Having placed them on, she struck out her hand, "You can open your eyes now. I'm done."

Long slender fingers took her hand and brought her around. "Good. All we have to do now is make it to my study. How do you propose we proceed?"

"Easy." She pulled his arm over her shoulder and leaned down against him to wrap her other arm around his waist. "I told you before. Lean on me. Ready?" Together they stood. A triumphant smile lit her face.

Doubt etched his face. "You honestly believe you can do this?"

"You said your study was next to mine. How far can it be?" She easily dismissed his comment and took the first step.

"In another hall way."

"What! But you said—"

"I said your room is adjacent to mine. It's just not in this corridor. We have to go down this one and around to the end of the next. Where my study is located. Next to your room." Even sick he was patronizing.

Nonetheless, she straightened her spine and took a deep breath. "In that case, take that stick next to my bed. I took it from the gardens." Lily admitted sheepishly. "I've been using it to get around the room when I'm by myself."

Using the stick to distribute his weight, they left her room and slowly began their journey down the hall. As they trudged onward, oversized sconces of glowstone material magically came to life and guided them. By the time they made the turn to the following corridor, it was difficult to say who bore more of the strain.

All the way they had walked in silence. Landros lost in his struggles and Lily focused solely on getting them to their destination. When he decided to speak, she was mildly surprised.

"I've told you before that when I overtax my gifts it weakens me. I have no more strength than a newborn." The sound of their shuffling feet and the tap of the walking stick echoed and traveled through the empty corridor, but not his words. Those reached only her ears.

She detected the tiniest bit of resentment in admitting a weakness. Still, she nodded and pressed them on. "My grandsire," yes, she knew of whom he spoke, "his health has been fading, but the kingdom needs him. So I..."

Lily stopped, "So you saved his life. Is he cured?"

"There is no cure for time." Now he was the one to push on. Either eager or desperate to arrive she did not know.

"Then...? You've done this before?"

He gave no answer.

Her curiosity would not stay at bay. "How many times?"

He shrugged.

"How long have you...?"

"For some time." And he volunteered no more information as they arrived at his room.

Crossing the threshold, she blinked trying to process what she had justlearned. Prince Landros, whom she thought to be unfeeling and distant, hadrepeatedly extended the king's life by sacrificing his own.

A/N: Hi all!  I would love some feedback on Lily and Landros' complicated "friendship". How do you feel about Landros? What did you think about that little nugget of info he dropped on Lily?

Can't wait to hear from you! Till next time 😊