“So it seems.”
“You must not die.”
“I shall take that under advisement.”
Her small hands pressed on either side of his face. “Poppy said you were only sleeping, but not regular sleeping. Physician sleeping. That is worse.”
“I have no intention of doing any more physician sleeping.”
The door opened at once.
Poppy entered quickly, then stopped as if the sight of him awake struck her harder than she had expected. Her dark blonde hair was not as tidy as she usually kept it. Her blue eyes moved over him, searching. Only when he looked back did she breathe.
“Aurora,” she said softly, “you are crushing him.”
Aurora looked down, horrified. “Am I?”
“A little,” Hector said.
Poppy came to the bed and lifted the child with care. Aurora resisted just long enough to throw her arms around his neck.
“You saved Poppy,” she said fiercely.
Hector’s throat tightened. “I tried.”
“You did. You are a hero.”
“I am not certain—”
But Aurora had already turned. “Princess! He is awake!”
There was an immediate commotion from the other side of the room. Hector heard quick steps, Poppy’s warning of “gently,” and then the bed dipped again. Princess was brought close enough to pat his shoulder with both hands. Aurora climbed back beside him despite Poppy’s attempt to prevent it.
“My girls,” Hector said before he could think better of it.
Poppy went still.
He felt the words settle in the room. Not claimed by law. Not by duty. Something simpler and far more dangerous.
Aurora did not question them. “Yes,” she said. “And we were worried.”
Princess leaned into him, warm and unsteady. Hector lifted a hand and touched the baby’s back. His fingers trembled, though not from pain.
“What happened?” he asked.
Poppy’s face changed.
“You hit your head when you fell,” she said. “The physician examined you. He says nothing appears seriously wrong, but you are to remain in bed and be watched for symptoms.”
“Symptoms.”
“Dizziness. Confusion. Sickness. Anything unusual.”
“I have a headache.”
“That is expected.”
“I am also being attacked by children.”