When my father spotted me, his eyes lit with a familiar warmth despite the heavy weariness clinging to them.
“Jane,” he murmured, his voice thin and hoarse.
The sight of him blurred for a moment until I circled to the other side of the bed.
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
“Ah, you know.” His gaze drifted around the room. “Waking from a coma. But your sister tells me we’re in a castle, so all things considered, I suppose I can’t complain.”
Relief flooded my chest. He sounded like himself.
“Hildegard says he’s recovering well but can’t overexert himself,” Joy added, sniffling. “So I’m holding him down.”
“She won’t even let me sit up, Jan,” he huffed. “You’ll help me, won’t you?”
I lifted a brow. “You’ll do exactly what the Healers tell you.”
As if summoned, Hildegard entered the room, her light olive robes pristine.
Her report was brisk and reassuring. She would monitor him over the next few days to ensure no lasting effects emerged. He still needed rest, which meant we couldn’t stay long. She answered every question we had regarding his condition before excusing herself.
“So this is where you’ve been hiding,” my father said, peering up at me. “Your sister told me you were safe, but…detained.”
My stomach tightened. I could imagine exactly how Joy had framed it.
“I had to stay.” I inhaled, bracing myself to explain.
“I’d forgotten about that damn station after all these years,” he said, casually dismissive.
I froze, unsure I’d heard him correctly. “What?”
“I always thought it was a flawed passage. I told your mother someone would eventually fall through it.”
My lips parted as I glanced at Joy. Her frown told me she’d never heard of this either.
“You knew where Jane was?” she asked.
“No, no,” he said lightly. “I thought your sister was working in the Capital, earning her living. Especially since you kept sending such a generous portion of your wages home. And it didn’t surprise me that you wanted to try something different.” He studied me, as though noticing something he’d missed. Then his gaze drifted around the room. “It’s been a long time since I was in this land. I didn’t even think about it.” His voice softened. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I should have known.”
“What should you have known?” I pressed.
A crease formed between his brows, his age lines deepening as he took in the sage-coloured sheets.
“You knew,” Joy murmured. “And you didn’t tell us.”
“Sweetheart,” Father started, “I want to explain, but my head hurts, and I need to sit up.”
Joy’s eyes reddened as she tried to meet his gaze, her breaths quickening, turning shallow and uneven. It was a tell-tale sign of her thoughts spiralling, of things no longer making sense.
I helped him sit as Joy stepped back from the bed, creating more space between us the way she always did when something overwhelmed her.
“Hold your pendant,” I murmured, glancing at the gemstone at her neck. Then I turned back to him. “How bad is the pain? Should I call Hildegard?”
“No. I just needed to shift my position.” His eyes flicked to Joy, then back to me. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I should have known better than to ask you to go.”
“You should have told us,” I said quietly, stepping back and lowering myself onto the nearest couch.
He exhaled and let his shoulders sag, watching Joy for a long moment.
