“If anyone asks about your fever, send them to me,” he instructed.
“Why?” Vhalla asked softly, the food in her stomach churning.
“Haven’t I told you before? You’re a bad liar.” Sareem shook his head. “It’ll be more convincing if you send them to me.”
“Why would you do that?” They stopped walking before her door, and Vhalla stared up at her friend.
“Because, it might help you,” he answered, glancing away. Something suddenly felt awkward. “I don’t know why you’re lying, Vhalla. But I trust that you wouldn’t be trying to if it weren’t important. If you ever need someone to talk to, I will be there.”
“Thank you, Sareem.” Vhalla shifted her feet.
To her surprise he raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles lightly. “Rest well, Vhalla,” Sareem whispered, before releasing her fingers and starting back toward the dining hall.
Vhalla was helpless to do little more than watch him go in a dumbfounded silence.
TWO DAYS CAME and went with such a normalcy that it seemed slightly surreal. Vhalla returned to almost all of her usual duties. The master gave her extra leeway in the mornings to help with her recovery. While Vhalla habitually woke with the dawn, she enjoyed the extra time to relax in bed and dressed at her leisure. It caused some guilt, but there was a good deal of that feeling lately as she felt no closer to her decision regarding the Tower.
Things with Sareem had not changed after her first night back. At times she could feel a strange stare coming from his direction. Sometimes he would sit closer than normal as they hid from work on her window seat. But neither were prepared to cross the line between them.
She began to look at him differently, forcing Vhalla to think back on Roan’s words. Vhalla had so readily dismissed her friend’s inquiry about a relationship, but now she thought of it during each of Sareem’s glances. Why was he paying so much attention to her? It piled on her list of everything she would eventually sort through.
So on her birthday, she slept past dawn, curled in bed with covers pulled up over her head. As custom, Mohned had given her the day off, and she took the opportunity to sleep in. She was almost completely healed, but her body still demanded additional rest.
Or rather, it would have demanded additional rest were it not for a knock on her door. Vhalla squinted open her eyes, hoping the person would go away. But after a few moments, the second knock pulled Vhalla to her feet.
She struggled to think of who it could be. The library staff was at work by now, and Vhalla didn’t have a large number of friends. Therefore, it shouldn’t have been any surprise who greeted her.
“Larel?” she exclaimed, looking at the other woman in the black coat.
“Hello, Vhalla.” Larel flashed one of her dazzling smiles. “May I come in? I wouldn’t want anyone to notice me when I’ve avoided being observed until now.”
Vhalla nodded and moved to the side to allow her friend to pass.
Larel walked into the small space and looked around. Vhalla’s room was little more than a bed, desk, chair, closet, and mirror, but Larel’s eyes went over each. She paused a moment, staring at the closet. Right as Vhalla was about to inquire what the other woman thought she saw, Larel turn with a clap of her hands.
“So! How are you feeling?” Larel led Vhalla back to the bed, and she played the patient obediently.
“Very well,” Vhalla responded.
“Good.” Larel pulled up the chair to sit across from her and started inspecting the last of Vhalla’s bruising. “You really have healed amazingly.”
This conversation felt very odd after returning to what Vhalla considered to be the real world. Intentionally or subconsciously, she had hardly given more than a passing thought to magic for almost three full days.
“Have you been experimenting?” Larel looked up from her medical diligence. Vhalla shook her head. “Any reason?”
“I don’t know what I’m doing.” Vhalla held up her leg for Larel to check the bandage on her calf.
“Hardly,” Larel remarked dryly.
“Hardly?” Vhalla tilted her head to the side, her hands stretched behind her on the small bed.
“You broke flame bulbs in the Tower,” the Western woman pointed out.
“Fritz was helping me,” Vhalla retorted. She instantly felt a pang of longing at the idea of seeing Fritz again.
“Oh, yes, Fritz is such an astounding teacher,” Larel laughed sarcastically.
Vhalla smiled despite herself, remembering the Southern man’s clumsy nature and efforts to help her understand magic. Larel may not understand, but after the minister and the prince, Vhalla thought Fritz was quite a good teacher.
“Maybe for the best though,” Larel continued at Vhalla’s silence. “Without a teacher overseeing your efforts, it could be dangerous now that you’re Awoken. Has anything strange happened?”