They were so scared of losing her. They were so scared of losing the only family they had left.
River wanted to assure them she was fine, but it seemed like a hollow promise. How could she assure them of anything when she didn’t know what was wrong with her herself?
Even the sight of the almost untouched tray of breakfast near her bed was enough to make her stomach churn. The smell of it brought wave after wave of nausea to her stomach, and she motioned weakly at it.
“Can ye take that away, please?” she asked, and Layla was quick to whisk the tray away, placing it in the low table of her sitting room instead, which was too far away for the scent to reach her.
“River . . . what’s wrong?” Arya asked, and River hated how fearful she sounded. She didn’t want to see Arya and Colby like this, terrified that something bad would happen to her.
“I’m sure it’s naethin’ but a cold,” Layla called as she rushed back to her bedside. “Isnae that right, me lady? There’s an illness goin’ round the castle, but it’s naethin’ tae fash about. Ye’re young and strong, ye’ll be healthy again in nae time.”
Layla’s words were reassuring, but the tone of her voice less so. River could see it in the way she held her shoulders, a tense, rigid line. She could see it in the side-glances she gave her, as if she feared to face her fully, as if she was constantly keeping an eye on her.
Layla, too, was worried.
River didn’t find that particularly reassuring. People like her had seen illness and death, and if she was worried, it meant that there was a reason for her to worry. Layla was hardened by her life; she would not hold any concern for trivial things.
When the door opened, River turned to see Finlay there, standing with his arms crossed over his chest. Concern was etched over his features, too, as he stared at her where she lay in bed, covered to the chin by the bedsheets.
“I’ve heard we’re nae eatin’,” he barked, and River couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the man. A part of her feared he would try to spoon-feed her like he did when she was a child, sparing no thought to the fact that it would be embarrassing for her.
“She’s nae feelin’ well,” said Layla before River could answer. “I say it’s a cold.”
“Aye,” said Finlay grimly. “I bet that’s what it is.”
He didn’t seem convinced either. Besides, save for the extreme nausea and the fatigue, there was nothing else to indicate River had caught a cold. She didn’t have a cough. She wasn’t running a fever. Her only problem was that she couldn’t get out of bed and she could keep nothing down.
Another wave of nausea hit her then, and River had to work hard to keep the scant contents of her stomach down, her face twisting into a grimace. At the sight of it, Finlay rushed to her side, and Arya reached for her hand, holding it tightly in her own.
“Is there naethin’ we can do?” Arya asked.
Throughout it all, Colby had been uncharacteristically quiet, his gaze glued to the floor. River’s heart ached seeing the two of them like this, and she was quick to nod towards them and then towards the door, so that Layla would take them out of the room for a while.
It would be better if they spent some time away from her, playing, being carefree again. The more time they spent locked up in that room with her, the worse it would be for them.
“Come now,” said Layla, placing one hand on Arya’s shoulder and the other on Colby’s and steering them away from the room. “Let us go and play. We should let River recover, aye?”
“I’d rather stay here, with her.”
It was the first time Colby had spoken that morning, and his tone was full of determination, but River was quick to shake her head.
“Ye go and enjoy the day,” she told them. “And in a few days, I’ll be out there with ye again.”
“Do ye promise?” Colby asked.
And River, because she didn’t have the heart to tell him anything else, said, “Of course I promise.”
River gave the children a reassuring smile, and after one final nod from Colby, the two of them left the room, followed by Layla. Then, it was only Finlay and River there, and she couldn’t help but shrink under his scrutinizing gaze.
“Ye look unwell,” he said, which was certainly not news to her. “But this is naethin’ like any cold I’ve ever seen. Has the healer seen ye yet?”
“I havenae called him,” said River, and she expected the unimpressed, stern look Finlay gave her. “Finlay, I didnae wish to worry anyone. I didnae think it was so important, I thought I must have eaten somethin’.”
“Do ye still think that now?” asked Finlay.
River shook her head. If it was something she had eaten, she would have started feeling better already. The first symptoms had begun to appear several days prior, and so she doubted it had to do with food.
“Then shall I call him now?”
