She hated being ill and weak. She was alive, but sometimes in the mornings she felt she might have been better off dead. Her limbs were lead, her head was foggy, and the only thing driving her forward was the fact that each day was marginally better than the last. It didn’t help that everyone around her was treating her like she was made out of glass.

  Vayu had been ill before. It was never this bad, but she’d had bad fevers and suffered through it. She had survived waves of sickness that had swept through the monastery and taken more than a few lives. She was young, she was otherwise healthy, and she knew that her weakness was only temporary. They did not need to cut her vegetables for her or feed her. She appreciated their help, but it was quickly becoming stifling.

  “I am not going to sit in a wheelchair!” she argued. She wanted to go outside. She could take only so much of getting fresh air only through the windows. She wanted to walk through the gardens again. Her maids wanted her to either rest, or let them push her through the paths. Soon, all the grass would covered with snow. It was fall’s last flush, the leaves hues of red and gold, and she wanted to see it up close. She wanted to hear the crunch of dead leaves beneath her feet.

  “I come with gifts,” Cheran said.

  He came with gifts often, and Vayu thanked him for it. Along with the gifts, he brought more vials of bitter medicine. She was sure she no longer needed the medicine, but he insisted she still consume it. The gifts were usually sweets or baked goods, and today’s was an apple tart, still warm from the oven.

  She drank the medicine quickly, and took her time with the tart.

  “Thank you,” she said. The sugar and apple removed some of the bitterness of the medicine from her throat.

  “This isn’t the only gift,” Cheran said. “I have a surprise planned for you.”

  They walked out to the main entrance of the manor, where a small carriage awaited them.

  “We’re going to ride outside the city,” Cheran said.

  Vayu looked at him. Their last venture outside the castle walls hadn’t ended so well.

  “All our food and drinks are already in the carriage. Obal has personally supervised everything. We will not step out of that wonderful box with velvet cushioned seats,” Cheran said, opening the door to the carriage for her.

  Again she questioned why he was being so kind. Perhaps it was only his guilt. He was the one who had suggested the go out to the city, the one who had chosen the tea shop, and he was the one who had survived because she stopped him from drinking the tea. Vayu knew a few things about survivor’s guilt.

  “It sounds wonderful,” she said. She walked towards the carriage, holding onto the door for support as she stepped in. She appreciated that he didn’t try to help her as the others did. If she fell, she would accept help, but coddling her would not help her gain her strength any faster.

  They rode through the city to get to the city gates, and it was mid-morning by the time they left the city behind. They made their way through the small towns that surrounded Yerna, and finally reached the rolling hills of the countryside. She hadn’t paid attention to anything on the journey to the capital city. The countryside was beautiful, and the carriage driver took them onto a side road at around noon. She wanted to talk to Cheran. She had been starved of conversation for too long. Cheran met her in the mornings before leaving to help his father, and her maids only insisted that she rest. They would have her on a routine of only sleeping and eating if they could help it.

  They passed through a pair of wrought-iron gates, and onto a humble estate. The entirety of the land was surrounded by stone walls. There was a small lake, a modest garden with vegetables and fruit trees, and a charming cottage instead of a grand manor. The carriage came to a halt in front of the cottage.

  “I thought we were only going for a ride,” Vayu said.

  “This is the last surprise,” Cheran said. “It’s one of my estates. Close enough to the city, but far enough to escape the noise. It’s also a very safe place. So small that there is nowhere to hide.”

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  “It’s just us and the carriage driver,” Vayu said.

  “Just us, and Obal,” Cheran said, smiling at her in apology. “He’ll just take a walk around the perimeter while we enjoy our lunch.”

  “It’s alright,” Vayu said. She knew the soldier was a good man, if a bit a loose lipped. And he was Cheran’s friend, so she would have to become accustomed to him. Cheran stepped out and towards the rear boot of the carriage. Vayu took her time. Her legs were stiff from sitting, and she massaged them to restore the circulation. By the time she was out of the carriage, Cheran had spread out the picnic blanket among the fruit trees and was setting up their lunch.

  “I’ll help,” she said. She could tell he was unused to serving food. She sat down cross-legged on the blanket and started laying out the food. It was simple fare, sandwiches and a carafe of juice along with a bottle of wine. Her meals had gotten simpler during her recovery, and she appreciated the change. Cheran looked like only himself again, instead of royal and unreachable.

  “I want to let you know,” she said. “You don’t have to be so kind to me. You don’t have to spend so much time with me. I know you respect this marriage, but you’re honoring it as if you chose me.”

  “We spoke of this before,” Cheran said. For the first time, he sounded angry. “I don’t have anyone else. If you do, I won’t stop you.”

  Vayu sighed. “That is not what I mean to say. I feel like since I’ve come to this country, all I have done is take. I take your kindness, your time, your care. I take all your gifts, your concern. I have earned none of it, and it makes me feel…”

  “You don’t need to feel anything,” Cheran said.

  “I feel burdened,” Vayu said. “I spent a decade of my life working for everything I had. The monastery gave me shelter, but I woke at dawn to work the gardens, I taught children, I helped visiting devotees. I cleaned, I cooked. I earned my keep. Now, I sit here in the castle like a piece of decoration while everyone else fawns over me. Including you.”

  She had held out so long, held onto their amiable friendliness and their pleasant time together. It felt like a lie, and it felt like it was always coming to an end. She knew he was getting angrier, and that if she was smart she would try to unsay everything coming out of her mouth. But she was tired of saying yes to everything he gave her and just smiling.

  “Especially you,” she continued. “You give me so much, and I do not want such a degree of sympathy from you. I’ve incurred a debt I cannot pay back in this lifetime.”

  “A debt?” he asked.

  “I’m aware that it is more of a charity,” Vayu said.

  “You think that is what this all is?” Cheran asked, pointing at the manor around them. “You think I come to see you every day because I pity you?”

  “You’re a very kind man,” Vayu said. “You will make a great emperor. I just want you to be happy as well. Don’t hold back your happiness because you feel a responsibility for me.”

  “Dear gods, is that what you think I’m doing?”

  A roar sounded from the perimeter of the wall, and there was a distant yell.

  “Obal,” Cheran mumbled. He stood up and raced to the carriage. From under the seats, he brought out two swords and threw one to Vayu.

  “I know you’re not trained, but it’s better than being unarmed!”

  Vayu was untrained, but she knew how to use a knife. She went into the carriage again and found a few daggers. She took a few moments to gather her breath before slowly following Cheran. She would be useless if she got winded, and she would be dead if she was attacked too far away for Cheran to reach her.

  In the distance, she saw Obal hunched over the ground, and Cheran slowing as he reached the soldier. She saw Cheran relax and sheathe his sword before looking back at her. He motioned for her to come to him, and when she did, she saw what Obal was hunched over.

  “Someone threw this bloody thing at me,” Obal said, grabbing his shoulder. There was a large stone on the ground, oval and smooth like a pebble on a river bed. The only difference was that the stone was the size of her head. She picked up the stone and shifted it from hand to hand.

  It only looked like a stone, but it was lighter than she expected. When she changed it from one hand to another, she felt something moving around inside. For a second, she had a ridiculous thought.

  “It feels like an egg,” she said. Only an egg would never survive a collision with Obal’s shoulder. She’d never seen such a large egg either.

  “Where did it come from?” she asked.

  “Someone lobbed it over the wall, probably,” Obal said. “Maybe the local children playing a prank.”

  She didn’t think so, but she nodded along. “I think I’m going to keep it.”

  Rich women collected odd things all the time. She the ladies at court talk about their new exotic birds, rare gems, and well bred horses. Her particular thing would be odd egg-shaped rocks.

  “You want to keep the rock?” Cheran asked.

  “Yes,” she said. She hugged the rock to her chest and slowly starting making her way back to the carriage. For a few moments she thought their brief respite from the castle’s tension was too good to be true. That they were again under attack. The rock was strange, but it was probably as OBal said, some village children having fun.

  After carrying it half way, she found it was too heavy for her to continue. She stood for a moment, gathering her breath again. Cheran took over for her. He carried the rock one-handed, and when they were at their picnic blanket he placed it at the edge of the blanket like a paperweight.

  “Do you really want to bring this back home with you?” he asked.

  “It’ll be something for me to remember this day,” Vayu said, gently pulling the rock to her side. “A souvenir.”