KIERAN'S POV:
Timeline: Few days after Chapter 18
Location: Nocterra
It starts small.
A heaviness in my limbs that I dismiss as tiredness.
A slight dizziness when I stand too fast that I blame on standing too fast.
A persistent exhaustion that I figure is just... adjustment.
After all, I'm still recovering from the bond strain. Still getting used to this world. Still processing everything that's happened.
Of course I'm tired.
Right?
"Kieran?" Ravion's voice pulls me from my thoughts. "Are you listening?"
I blink. We're in the library—my favorite place in the castle now—and he's been explaining something about Nocterra's trade agreements with neighboring kingdoms.
Which I apparently completely zoned out during.
"Sorry," I say, rubbing my eyes. "I'm just... tired."
His expression shifts. Concerned. "You've been tired a lot lately."
"I'm fine."
"You said that yesterday. And the day before."
"Because it's true." I force a smile. "I'm just not used to all the... royal stuff. The meetings and duties and—" I gesture vaguely. "—everything. It's exhausting."
He doesn't look convinced. "You're sleeping enough?"
"Yes, Mom."
"I'm serious."
"So am I. I'm fine." I stand to prove my point—
The world tilts.
I grab the table. Hard. Knuckles white.
"Kieran!" Ravion is beside me in an instant, hands steadying me. "What's wrong?"
"Just—just stood up too fast." My vision swims. When did the room get so bright? "I'm okay. Just give me a second."
"You're pale."
"I'm always pale. I'm from Brooklyn. We don't see sun."
"This is different." His hand comes up to my forehead. "You feel warm."
"I feel fine."
"Stop saying that." His voice is sharp. Worried. "You're clearly not fine."
"I just need—need to sit down—"
My legs give out.
Ravion catches me. Always catches me.
"That's it," he says firmly. "We're getting you back to bed."
"I don't need—"
"Not arguing." He lifts me—actually lifts me like I weigh nothing—and starts carrying me out of the library.
"This is embarrassing."
"This is me taking care of you." His jaw is set. Determined. "Which you'd let me do if you'd stop being stubborn for five seconds."
"I'm not being—"
"You are." We're in the corridor now, servants jumping out of the way. "You've been getting worse for days and you've been hiding it."
"I haven't been hiding—"
"You can barely stand, Kieran."
I can't argue with that.
Because he's right.
I can't stand.
And I don't know why.
Back in our chambers, Ravion sets me on the bed with a gentleness that doesn't match his clearly furious expression.
"Stay here," he commands.
"Where would I go? I can't even stand."
"Not funny." He's already at the door. "I'm getting the court physician."
"It's probably just—"
"I don't care what you think it is!" His voice cracks. "You're weak, Kieran. Getting weaker. And I—" He stops. Takes a breath. "Just. Stay here. Please."
He leaves before I can respond.
I sink back against the pillows, suddenly aware of just how exhausted I am.
How did I not notice it was getting this bad?
The heaviness. The dizziness. The way everything feels like it takes twice the energy it should.
I thought I was just tired.
But this is more than tired.
This is wrong.
The physician arrives within minutes—an elderly woman named Meredith with sharp eyes and gentle hands.
Ravion hovers at the bedside while she examines me. Won't leave. Won't even sit down.
"Any pain?" Meredith asks, checking my pulse.
"No. Just... tired."
"Appetite?"
"Normal, I think?"
"Sleeping?"
"A lot. More than usual."
She hums thoughtfully. Checks my eyes, my throat, listens to my heartbeat.
Finally sits back. "Physically, he seems fine."
"He collapsed," Ravion says flatly. "That's not fine."
"I understand, Your Majesty. But I'm not finding any signs of illness or injury." She looks at me. "The bond?"
"It's..." I focus on that thread in my chest. "Okay? Feels normal."
"No pain from it?"
"No."
Meredith exchanges a look with Ravion. "It's possible this is delayed strain. The bond nearly broke during his escape attempt. Sometimes the effects are... cumulative."
"So what do we do?" Ravion demands.
"Rest. Fluids. Monitor him closely." She stands. "If it worsens, call me immediately. But Your Majesty—" She hesitates. "—the bond shouldn't cause this level of weakness. Not after this long."
"Then what is causing it?"
"I don't know." She looks genuinely troubled. "I'll consult the archives. See if there's any precedent for—"
"Do it quickly."
"Of course, Your Majesty."
She leaves.
Ravion finally sits. On the edge of the bed. Head in his hands.
"Hey," I say softly. "I'm okay."
"You collapsed."
"I got dizzy—"
"You couldn't stand." He looks up, and there's fear in his eyes. Real, raw fear. "You're getting worse, Kieran. And I don't know why and I can't fix it and—" His voice breaks. "I can't lose you."
"You're not going to lose me."
"You don't know that."
"I do." I reach for his hand. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm just... tired. That's all."
"That's not all." But he takes my hand. Squeezes. "I'm not leaving your side until we figure this out."
"You can't just—you have kingdom stuff—"
"Fuck the kingdom." He says it so vehemently I actually laugh. "You're more important."
"I'm really not—"
"You are." He climbs into bed beside me, pulls me against his chest. "To me, you are. So I'm staying. And you're resting. And we're figuring this out."
"Bossy," I mumble, but I'm already relaxing into him.
"Concerned."
"Same thing."
His arms tighten around me. "Sleep. I've got you."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
I wake up hours later.
The room is dark except for candlelight. Ravion is still there—sitting in the chair beside the bed now, reading but clearly not focused.
"You're still here," I say, voice rough with sleep.
He looks up immediately. "How do you feel?"
"Tired." Always tired now. "What time is it?"
"Past midnight."
"You should sleep."
"I'm fine."
"Ravion."
"I'll sleep when you're better." He sets the book aside, comes to sit on the bed. "Are you hungry? Thirsty?"
"Maybe water?"
He's already pouring from the pitcher on the nightstand. Helps me sit up. Holds the cup while I drink.
I should be embarrassed.
Instead, I'm just... grateful.
"Thank you," I say when I'm done.
"Always." He sets the cup aside. "Kieran—"
"I know. Something's wrong. I feel it too." I lean back against the pillows. "It's getting worse, isn't it?"
He doesn't lie. "Yes."
"What do you think it is?"
"I don't know. But I'm going to find out." His hand finds mine. "And I'm going to fix it."
"What if you can't?"
"Not an option." His grip tightens. "I didn't wait this long, go through everything we've been through, just to lose you to some mystery illness."
"We've only known each other a few weeks."
"Doesn't matter." He looks at me with such intensity. "You're mine, Kieran. Mine to protect. Mine to care for. Mine to—" He stops.
"Yours to what?"
"Mine to love," he finishes quietly. "If you'll let me."
My breath catches.
He said it. Actually said it.
"Ravion—"
"You don't have to say it back." He brings my hand to his lips. "I just need you to know. What you mean to me. What you've become to me." His eyes hold mine. "So whatever this is, whatever's wrong, I'm not giving up. I'm not letting go. I'm fighting for you."
Tears burn behind my eyes. "Even though I was a mistake? Wrong person, wrong time, wrong—"
"You were never a mistake." He says it so firmly. "Maybe the circumstances were wrong. Maybe the way we started was wrong. But you?" He cups my face gently. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."
I don't know what to say to that.
So I just pull him down into a kiss.
It's soft. Gentle. Says everything I can't put into words.
When we break apart, he's smiling.
"Sleep," he murmurs. "I'll be right here."
"Promise?"
"Always."
Three days later, I can barely get out of bed.
The weakness is consuming me now. Every movement takes effort. Every word is exhausting.
Meredith has been back twice. Still finds nothing.
Ravion looks like he hasn't slept in days. Probably hasn't.
"This doesn't make sense," he says, pacing the chamber while I lie there uselessly. "You were fine. Getting better. And then—"
"Then I wasn't," I finish weakly.
"The bond is stable. You have no injuries, no illness that the physician can find—" He stops. Looks at me. "Unless..."
"Unless what?"
His expression goes dark. "Unless it's not natural."
My blood runs cold. "What do you mean?"
"Poison. Curse. Magic." He's already moving to the door. "Something deliberate."
"Who would—"
"I don't know. But I'm going to find out." He pauses at the door. "Don't drink anything anyone brings you. Don't eat anything I haven't personally approved. Understand?"
"You think someone is poisoning me?"
"I think someone might be trying to." His jaw sets. "And when I find out who—"
A knock interrupts him.
Lyra enters with the evening tea tray.
"Your Majesty," she says with her usual calm smile. "I brought—"
"Get out."
She blinks. "I'm sorry?"
"I said get out." Ravion's voice is deadly. "And don't come back. Ever."
Lyra's expression doesn't change. "Have I done something to offend—"
"NOW."
She sets the tray down carefully. "Of course, Your Majesty."
She leaves.
Ravion stares at the tea. At the tray.
Then at me.
"How long has she been bringing your evening tea?"
"I... I don't know. A few weeks?"
"When did you start feeling worse?"
I think back. "Around... around the same time?"
His expression goes murderous.
He picks up the teacup. Smells it. His eyes flash.
"Guards!" He bellows. "SEIZE LYRA! NOW!"
"Ravion, what—"
"It's poison," he says. Looking at me. "She's been poisoning you."