I debated writing home to father, telling him of my worries. I feared it wouldn't have done me well ans instead caused more woes. I decided against writing to him despite knowing what he's gone through.
"Alex, I believe we need to talk."
Garroth walks from the direction of Vylad's chambers. I've found myself pacing. I wonder how my shoes have not worn.
"You don't mean to tell me to prepare a black dress, are you?" I ask him, feeling my handkerchief ball up in my palm.
He shakes his head. "You're stuffing yourself in here too much today. Let's take a walk outside. I want to clear my head."
Garroth lends his arm out to me, and I allow him to guide me towards the exit. He calls for a maid to fetch me a mantle for the time being. The wind has decided to cast a bitter tune to the outdoors.
Some flowers begin to bloom, showing they prefer the fall air. Others I know will soon wilt from the cold season. Come winter, I don't believe I'll favor the garden.
"Has my brother been showing any signs of illness recently?"
"He has been tired as of late, if that counts as a sign. I chaste him for losing sleep as often as he has been, but he never listens to me. Simply tells me to rest myself."
He nods his head. From the period of time I've known Garroth, he chooses when to speak carefully. His words are seldom in a careful conversation.
"I don't recall the last time Vylad was ill. He's always been healthy," Garroth says. "The idea of him being ill worries us all, especially mother."
My stomach fills within itself. I assumed Vylad was one to be healthy. He seems to be so full of life, and his skin is colorful. The idea of such a change brings a sickness to my stomach.
The two of us walk around for some time more. I don't know what time of day it is, but the Sun hasn't yet hit noon. It's far too late to be early in the morning anymore.
Neither of us says a word more. I feel stiff in his grasp. My mind swims in thoughts. I can feel Garroth's eyes bore into my skin, but I don't notice he stops walking until I stumble forward.
"You really do care for my baby brother, don't you? It's not a game you play to fool our mother or yourself. You really do care."
I look away from him, directing my gaze to the flowers inching towards my skirt. "He was there for me during. . . during what happened. He didn't have to, and he didn't have to forgive me either. I forgave him a while ago."
His gaze softens on me. "Do you love him?"
I can't find that answer within myself. I can't find it within myself to answer. I feel I would only disappoint him.
"Could you learn to love him?"
I nod my head. "I truly think I could. Could we return? I'm worried about him. It's been hours."
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Zianna was in the room when we returned. She was dressed in black, and the hitch in Garroth's breath was hard to miss.
Her eyes were red and puffy. It appeared we had walked in on her praying. Garroth felt it important to sooth his mother, and I told him I'd take watch until he was able to return.
I fear Zianna is assuming the worst.
During times of waiting, I read a book. I'd get lost in a false reality. Sometimes what happens in books is better than what is happening around you. The false universe masking pain with delusion. I don't believe I'd be able to read at this time.
But I can get lost in my head while I hold onto his hand. His hand is cold. It reminds me of his sister's, despite the two of us having a strained relationship.
I rub my thumb against his knuckles, drawing circled against the skin. Maybe I should've been forgiving earlier on. Perhaps I'm being punished.
The sheets begin to rustle, and Vylad stirs in his sleep. My grip tightens as my heart rate quickens. Could he be waking up?
"You're hurting my hand," Vylad mutters. His voice is quiet, groggily. Relief floods me. His green eyes flash at me through a few blinks, adjusting to light. I wrap my arms around him.
"You scared me. You scared us all," I tell him, resting my hands on his shoulders when I rise. "Don't you dare do that ever again."
"I never meant to worry anyone," He tells me.
I frown and place my hand on his cheek, cupping it within my grasp. The two of us stare at one another before I stand from my spot. "Stay there and stay awake. I'm going to retrieve the others. They'll be happy to see you're awake."
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Joy filled the halls when the news of Vylad being awake sounded. Zianna was the first to rush into the room, holding onto him as tightly as she possibly could. Garroth called for a doctor to check on Vylad now that he was awake.
Vylad worked himself beyond exhaustion. On what, I may never know.
I feel as though I've overstepped my boundaries, so I'm maintaining distance between myself and him. I wish for his family to be by his side. I'm content being in the sitting room for the time being.
The door opens, and I look up from the handkerchief I'm toying around. It's wrinkly now from earlier, and my efforts to flatten these creases are going to waste.
"Alexandra."
My eyes rise to meet blue ones. I stand in my spot. "Kandilyn."
She chose to use my full name, so I shall use her's.
"Vylad is awake," she says, walking towards a nearby chair. She sits down, waiting for me to sit down once more. It appears she has every intent for a conversation.
"I know. I was there when it happened."
The air between us is thickening. I feel a sense of uneasiness causing tension to form. He folds her hands together in her lap. I've already hid my handkerchief.
"I spoke with Garroth. He scolded me for my words." There's a sense of hesitancy within her tone. I can tell this wasn't something she wanted to do, and it's taking a toll on her. "I want to apologize for assuming your recent attitude towards my brother was a façade. Garroth says you truly do care for him, and I need to trust that he is correct."
I don't have any words to say. She stands up from her place and straightens the fabric of her skirts. "He's asking to see you. He's confused on why you never returned. I'll take my leave."
She begins to walk away. My mouth opens to speak, but I can't bring myself to form words. It takes myself until she reaches for the door handle to speak up.
"Kandilyn," I say, hoping she'll spot. I'm correct as she stops and turns towards me. "Thank you. I. . . I want to apologize for what I said earlier. It was cruel."
She smiles weakly. "Call me Kandi. Now, go. He wants to see you as much as he wishes to see us."
