The walk back to the house was full of swift pacing, stiff-shoulders, and nervous looks. If anyone confused her with a crazy hobo, she wouldn't have been surprised. Only when she'd walked well into Mrs. Baker's house and plopped herself down on the bed next to Seth did she get some sense of ease. 

The redhead had fallen sound asleep, and—by the looks of the half-dried drool off the side of his mouth—it seemed like he'd been that way for a while. If he could power nap through this whole sick-curse, she'd feel a lot better about the situation.

Two light knocks and the screeching of a door hinge were enough to let her know someone had entered the room. The smell of cookies and pastries brought a slight smile to Emery's lips. "Morning, Mrs. Baker."

"Oh, sweet girl, what happened to you? You've gotten your face ten shades of dirty," the old woman fussed as soon as she caught sight of Emery. She set a plate of breakfast muffins on a low dresser before walking up the bed. After thoroughly squeezing her cheeks and pressing her lips against both their foreheads, Mrs. Baker gave them her best scornful look and said, "You were out and about all night weren't you? Asking to get yourselves sick! Seth's running a fever."

Her gaze moved down to Emery's outfit and her scowl deepened, her wrinkles further accentuating her distate. Her hand landed a dozen gentle slaps on Emery's back to get her to move away from the bed and toward the bathroom. "You better wash up and get to bed. This is not how young girls should look nor behave. Your grandmother would've had my head if she saw I'd let you get in this unacceptable state." 

Emery's rushed apologies fell on deaf ears. The only apparent thing that would appease the old woman was for her to get clean and get some rest. Not that Emery was complaining, that was all she wanted to do in the first place, but she didn't like being scorned by her more than graceful host.

So she listened and walked into the overly-doilied bathroom to get the post-adventure muck off her. 

It took three hefty washes, shampoos, and conditions to feel fully clean. Her arms scrubbed vigorously at her skin and hair, the water running in murky colors. She was not satisfied until the puddle at her feet ran crystal clear, and she felt somewhat civilized once more. An extra twenty minutes were spent washing the bathtub in a wave of guilt. 

By the time she was done, her arms and legs barely had the energy to wrap a towel around herself and walk up the dozen and a half stairs to her bedroom. Before she stepped up, Mrs. Baker's fluttery feet hurried behind her. "Ap-pap-pap. You aren't going anywhere until you drink some flu medicine, Missy."

Emery cringed. "No, it's—"

Mrs. Baker shoved a flu-medicine-filled spoon into her mouth before she could protest. She unwillingly swallowed the acrid liquid and felt her throat grow hoarse with its thick texture. Once she'd swallowed it, a satisfied smile stretched onto the woman's face, letting Emery see the gold-rimmed crown where her lower-middle tooth should be. "There," she cooed, reaching for the spoon and popping it out of the girl's lips. "Well, up you go! Go get some rest. Don't come down until those bags under your eyes are long gone."

After pressing her fingers against her under-eyes, Emery made a hasty retreat upstairs, her legs trembling from exhaustion. She didn't know how she managed to get dressed and slip under the bedsheets. The medicine mixed with an unhealthy dose of sleep deprivation had caused her thoughts to be hazy.

As soon as her head met a pillow, she was sucked into a dreamless sleep that seemed to last all of one minute but was actually hours. 

Her eyelids fluttered twice, and what was once a bright, sunlit room transformed into a dark, night-blue. A lamp was lit on the vanity, making her squint her eyes, swollen from sleep. Emery tried pushing herself up against the mattress, but her arms were attacked by a wave of soreness. She let out a pained groan as grabbed the edge of the headboard and pulled herself up through the pain. 

"Finally up?" Seth's voice rang through the room, forcing her to open her eyes wide and search around her. The boy sat beside the vanity, a big open book in his hands. "That must've been a hell of a dose of cough syrup. You slept through the whole day."

"What time is it?" Emery croaked out. Her fingers rubbed over her eyes, but it did little to ease the grogginess away. 

"Around nine," Seth answered before he closed the book and walked over to the bed. "I woke up a couple of hours ago too. Remember to grab a pic of Mrs. Baker's flu remedy before we go. That stuff worked like magic."

Only when Seth plopped the book down on Emery's lap did she realize it had the word Izoven in a shimmering font. 

Oh, no . . . 

"So, I found this book," he started, taking off his glasses to set them down on her pillow. "Is this why you were asking those weird questions the other night?"

Emery didn't want to deal with this when she was still dizzy from sleep. "How much of it did you read?"

Seth chuckled, flipping through the pages. His finger stopped at a page well past the middle. "I'm up to the part where Diuna's getting married, and they're suggesting opening the magic realm to other people."

About three nervous giggles slipped out of Emery's lips before she felt awake enough to answer, "Yeah, I'm not that far ahead."

His eyes glazed past another page and flipped it over. Damn his stupid speed-reading.

"It's pretty detailed fiction. I mean there's facts about Grecian times that . . . Whoever wrote this must've studied for years. Where'd you even find this?" his voice trailed off as he scanned through another page. Emery reached over and ripped the book off his hands before slamming it closed. "Come on, Em, I was reading th—"

"Well, I wouldn't want you to get too ahead of me," she lied, moving the book farther away from his reaching hand. 

"We've tried reading books together," he complained while slumping his shoulders. "You take forever, then give up and google the summary."

Emery scowled. She'd admit it, reading for fun wasn't her cup of tea. When Seth reached for the book again, Emery pushed him away with a hand against his forehead. "You sure you're feeling okay? You still feel a bit feverish," she lied.

"Em, yes, come on. I'll finish it by tomorrow. Then you'll have it back and you can take however many decades you want to finish it." 

"Um," she stopped, jumping in between him and the book and grasping him by the shoulders. "How about you tell me your thoughts on it so far?" 

Seth huffed out a tired breath and stared at her. After a moment's hesitation, he rested his back against the headboard and said, "It's . . . interesting, to say the least, but I think it's a bold choice for the author to pick that kind of storytelling. It reads like an actual history book instead of fiction."

"And the characters?"

"There's a few that interest me. Like Chases, the eldest son. He's super smart and helped design and build the castles. I think he's one of my favorites. To be honest, all of Izoven's children are pretty cool, but . . ." he stopped to click his tongue, "I've got a bad feeling about Vareus. He seemed fine at first, but now he seems to be straying off from the rest. After Diuna said she'd marry, he began building walls around his castle. He stopped taking trips to Earth and went against Diuna's proposal to create an entrance to the realm. I'm starting to think he might become an antagonist."

"Why do you think he doesn't want others in Izoven?" she asked, resting her head on his shoulder. 

She felt his arm rise and fall under her head in a small shrug before he grabbed her hand and began tracing his finger along the lines of her palm. "All the other children found their strengths, virtues, and love—an eternal love. While Vareus . . . I don't know. Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself, but I feel like he's just destined to end up alone."

"What do you mean?" Emery craned her neck up to glance at his eyes, which were stuck on the book, sparkling with curiousity.

"He clearly wasn't Izoven's favorite. His romantic endeavors never stuck. Unlike Ephy that could manipulate creatures or Chases with his spell creation, he didn't have anything to offer the realm but brute strength . . . He must've felt useless and pretty alone."

He had a whole Kingdom and so much power, but no one to share it with . . . Maybe it made him crazy.

But . . . if he was so apprehensive with love, how did he end up with a son? Who was Theo's mother?

"So . . ." Seth whispered as he laced their hands together, "after reading, I think I might have to change my answer."

His words hit her like the shock of a taser, shaking whatever sleep was left out of her system. "What?"

Seth smiled. "If we get to live in a fantasy world, I'd want to go, but only if we get to live in Chases' Kingdom. It says he built a massive library with thousands upon thousands of books from every century."

This was the answer she wanted—or thought she wanted before Fosse filled her head with that 'you don't love-love him' nonsense. Instead of returning his kind smile, she found herself turning her gaze down and slipping her hand out of his grip.

"And leave everything here?" she whispered into the comforter as she sunk further into the sheets. "I thought you wanted something normal, something safe."

Seth's enthusiasm seemed to falter. "Well, yeah, but it's hypothetical . . . Hypothetically, I could be eternally happy with the love of my life in the best library in existence. We'd go, right?"

Her cheeks started feeling hot. The words 'love of my life' caused a ripple of doubt to wave through her. The words weighed a ton on her shoulders, yet floated out of his mouth like the lightest feather. She sunk deeper into the sheets.

"Em?"

First Fosse. Then, the gate. She'd figure out her love life later.

So, Emery picked up the book and Seth's glasses before placing them neatly on the bedside table. "I'm still a little tired. Sleep next to me?"

She expected a nod and a smile, but when her eyes met the boy he had his brow furrowed, his eyes searching for something in her features. "Okay . . ."

He stood to turn off the light before walking back toward the bed. They moved into their familiar position, but she was still stiff and uneasy. His breath on top of her head caused her to shift and turn uncomfortably until she had to turn away.

"Emery. . . ."

One, two, three seconds of silence.

"Your question," he asked barely above a whisper, "it was hypothetical . . . right?"

Emery pretended to sleep.

He didn't ask again.