Cal awoke in her bed and turned her head to the side. She saw Matias dozing in a chair, his head tipped back. The sunset behind him made his dark hair a silhouette. He had dark half-moons under his eyes, suggesting that he had stayed up for at least three days. 

"Matt?" she whispered, her voice raspy. 

His eyes snapped open as he sat upright. "I'm awake." He blinked slowly as he looked around. His tired eyes fell on her and a look of excitement lit up his face. "You're awake!"

"And you're tired," she said.

"Am not," he said through a yawn. "Okay, maybe a little." 

Cal chuckled. Pain speared through her head and she groaned. 

Matias leapt to his feet and started examining her, barraging her with questions. "Are you okay? Do you need a healer? Are you going to throw up?"

"Matt," she said slowly. "I'm fine."

His fingers were feather-light under her chin as he tilted her face up to his. "You fell down the stairs, and you're my best friend. And—" he paused, hesitating "—of course I'm going to worry."

She could feel his breath on her face, could smell the sandalwood soap he used to bathe. He was close—close enough to kiss her if they wanted. 

"Do it," she whispered.

He tensed, alarm in his eyes. "Do what?"

Disappointment crashed over her. "It doesn't matter. Just go to bed, Matias. I'll be fine—really."

He pursed his lips. "Fine. I'll check on you in the morning. Good night, Cal." He brushed his lips against her cheek and left.

She brushed her fingertips where Matias kissed her. Her heart pounded and heart flooded her cheeks—and hands. 

Cal looked down at her hands and paled. Her hands shone like the sun, a beacon against the oncoming night. She couldn't go see Matias. Not while guards and servants are roaming the halls. 

She waited. She shoved her hands under her blankets, trying to quell the light. Cal waited until the clock on the mantle of her fireplace chimed three in the morning. She carefully got out of bed and tucked her hands under her arms. 

Cal wandered the halls as quiet as a mouse. She bounded down flights of stairs to the soldiers' barracks. She strode past the guards' doors all the way to Matt's bedroom and urgently knocked on the door.

—

Matias blinked blearily as a round of knocking pulled him from sleep. He looked at the clock on his night table. Quarter after three in the morning. 

Sighing, Matias heaved himself out of bed, throwing trousers on to look decent. 

He threw the door open. "If this can wait until morning—"

"It can't," said Cal. 

He shielded his eyes as sunlight streamed from Cal's direction. "What in the—"

The sunlight winked out, and Matias looked at Cal, her eyes full of fear and confusion. 

"I need your help."