Ulki opened the door as I landed. He noticed my burden. “What happened?”
“I'm not sure.” I stepped past him and headed down the hallway. He followed me.
“Who's that?” said Janaff, falling in with us.
“I don't know his name,” I said. “He's one of Lugrezia's kids.”
“But why do you have him? What's going on over there?”
I stopped and turned to face my brothers. “I think... it was a massacre.”
Janaff's jaw dropped.
“There were beorc soldiers everywhere – whose I don't know. They'd set fire to the entrance. There were bodies everywhere. This one was all I could find, besides Lugrezia....”
“That's it?” said Janaff.
“They can't fight back,” I said quietly.
Ulki closed his eyes. “Despicable.”
Janaff eyed the prince, who was still clinging to me. “Is he gonna be okay?”
“I don't know. He'd breathed a lot of smoke before I got to him. That, and these guys are pretty delicate. Did you make the guest bed last week?”
Janaff looked at the floor. “I forgot.”
“Never mind, he can have mine.” I elbowed my door open. “It's probably the softest one anyway. Child?” I continued in Ancient Tongue. “Okay now. You... hurting?” I tried to set him down, but he wouldn't let go of me. He was holding on with trembling, white-knuckled little hands. “Let go. I help... you let go.”
“No,” he rasped, clutching at my shirt even more tightly than before. He coughed weakly. “Don't – go!”
“What's he saying?” said Janaff.
“Not much,” said Ulki. “His talking is almost as choppy as Tibarn's.”
“Leave me alone,” I grunted. “You wanna be on translation duty?”
“No,” said Ulki. He backed out of the room. Janaff stayed and watched.
“Come on, kid, you can't hang on all day,” I grunted. “You... big breath. Let go.” To his credit, he tried to take a deep breath, but it just started a fit of coughing. Finally, he steadied himself and opened his fists. “Good, good,” I said, setting him down.
“Where is-” (he coughed again) “-my father?”
“Okay,” I said. “See soon. But, you. You hurting?”
He nodded, then winced and grabbed his head. “Headache.” He coughed again. “And... can't breathe.”
“Janaff, can you go make some tea?”
“Yes, sir!” said Janaff, looking thoroughly impressed with me. He hurried off.
“Janaff... help you now,” I said, pointing after him. The prince caught hold of my sleeve. “Yes?”
He looked up at me with bloodshot, watery eyes. “Please... don't go.”
“I stay.” I said, sitting down on the bed.
“...Thanks,” he whispered. He shut his eyes.
“Okay?”
He sniffed. His grip on my sleeve tightened as a tear made its way out.
“It's fine,” I said, wrapping a wing around him. “I get it. You've had a long day.” I didn't know what to say, or how to say it, in his words. But he seemed to get the message.

He was suffering – that much was clear – but he didn't have the energy to sort through it now. Pretty soon he'd worn himself out, and had to calm down a little.
“Now, hush,” I said, helping him lie back. “Hush and... be okay. Okay?”
“...Thank you,” he said. His shadowy eyes met mine, and he feebly stretched his hand toward me. “You-” (he coughed) “-you are the king?”
“Yes,” I said, taking his hand. “I Tibarn. You?”
“Prince Reyson,” he huffed.
I smiled slightly. “Well met, Reyson.”