Varthas's rebuke hung in the air, heavy and irrefutable. Aelia, who had been full of hurried energy, seemed to shrink a little, though her spirit was not entirely extinguished. She ignored the reprimand with a bright smile aimed at me.
"Welcome to the Silva Tacita!" she greeted, as if we were meeting for the first time under normal circumstances. "How are you feeling?"
Her question made me pause. I felt my body—the pain had subsided to a dull throb, my mind was clearer, yet the emptiness within it still felt so vast. "Good," I replied, then added honestly, "but also not good." A thick awkwardness coated my words.
However, Aelia's enthusiasm seemed immune to awkwardness. She stepped closer, ignoring her grandfather's watchful, tower-like presence. "I'm sorry about earlier, in the forest," she said quickly, her black eyes looking at me with sincere regret. "I ran to get help, the Phylakes. But when we got back, you had already fainted and... well, you're here now."
I shook my head slowly. "It's okay," I replied, the words feeling inadequate. "I... I would have done the same thing." Maybe. I didn't know what I would have done.
Suddenly, Aelia leaned forward, her hands resting on the edge of the bed, her face just a hand's breadth from mine. Her sudden proximity made me pull back slightly in awkwardness.
"Come on!" she urged, her eyes sparkling like stars in a clear night sky. "Let's take a walk around the city! I'll show you everything! The market, the Old Temple, the Memory Tree...!"
"No."
Varthas's voice cut through Aelia's enthusiasm like a blade of ice. Firm and with no room for debate. "He is still recovering. His body and mind need rest, not disturbances."
I knew he was right. Although a small part of me was intrigued by the promise of seeing this new world, the deep-rooted exhaustion in my bones was far stronger. "I'm sorry," I said to Aelia, trying to soften the rejection. "I... I'd like to rest first."
Aelia's expression changed instantly. The sparkle in her eyes died, replaced by visible disappointment. Her lips pursed into a small pout. Without another word, she turned and stomped out of the room, leaving a palpable trail of disappointment in her wake.
Varthas sighed again, this time more quietly. He looked at the newly closed door with an expression that was a mix of exasperation and deep affection. "Forgive my granddaughter," he said, his voice calm once more. "Her spirit sometimes outpaces her wisdom. Please, rest peacefully. No one will disturb you again." With a short nod, he too turned and left the room, closing the door gently behind him.
Now I was alone. The silence returned to the room, but this time it felt different. Not an empty silence, but a peaceful one. It's okay. Wait, so the spirited and slightly reckless Aelia was the granddaughter of Veyron Aurelion Varthas, this grand and composed leader? The contrast between them was so striking. She was so bold, challenging her grandfather's authority so easily. I unconsciously held my chin, a gesture I'd borrowed from Varthas. There was something about this family, about this world, that was more complex than it appeared on the surface.
But those thoughts were too heavy for now. Let it be. The exhaustion called to me again, pulling me into its dark, dreamless embrace. I let myself sink, falling back asleep, seeking refuge in unconsciousness.