Page 117 of Fractured Empire

I’ve never been queasy, and sticking by her side while our baby makes her toss her cookies is the least I can do.

“There, that’s all better, hmm?” I press a kiss to the top of her cheek and she takes a settling breath. “Why don’t you take a nap, yeah? The boys are about to go down for theirs and you could get some sleep in at the same time? I’ll get you some ginger tea when you wake up and your stomach should be nice and settled.”

“Yeah, okay,” she sniffs. “I’m tired, I think.”

Oh, she’s definitely tired.

She woke up tired today, but insisted that she would wake up more as she got her day going. Getting sick took all of that progress out of her though, and I can understand why. It was a violent affair, honestly. I wouldn’t be surprised if her stomach muscles were sore and achy.

“Let’s get you into bed, then.” Taking her hand, I lead her into her bedroom and pull back her blankets, giving her room to climb right under. She’s already in comfy enough clothes to sleep, having put on a loose T-shirt and some comfortable cotton pants this morning.

Her body melts into her bed, like a weight has been lifted now that she doesn’t need to keep herself standing.

A creak draws my eye to her bedroom door and I find two worried sets of eyes.

“Mommy okay?” Leo asks, rubbing his hands together nervously.

They saw her rush out of the kitchen to come up here and get sick in private, but they also saw me run up after her and it seems like they couldn’t help but follow behind us. Something I should have expected.

“Mommy’s okay,” I confirm, hoping they believe me. “Her tummy is upset, that’s all. She’s going to take a nap to feel better.”

“Mommy’s sick?” Bastian croaks, almost crying the question out. “But she promised!”

My heart cracks inside my chest at the anguish in his voice, watching as tears flood his eyes and his chest rises and falls harder.

“Bastian, she’s okay,” I try to soothe him, walking closer.

“No!” he yells, stepping back. “She needs medicine! You have to fix her. She can’t be sick, she promised!”

“Bastian, I—” Katya sits up, trying to reassure him herself but our son bolts out of the room and down the hall. I make a move to go after him but Leo stands in my way.

“What’s wrong with Mommy?” he asks, his tiny blue eyes blown wide open.

“Mommy has a tummy ache, just like you did a little while ago, remember?” I try to reason, squatting down to look him in the eyes. “She’s going to get all better soon with some rest like how we helped you feel better, remember?”

Leo looks reluctant, worried from the scene his brother made.

“Bastian is just scared, buddy,” I tell him softly. “Everything is going to be okay, I swear. Why don’t you go sit next to Mommy while I go find him, okay? You’ll see. She’s just tired and not feeling so good, but she’s going to be just fine.”

“Okay, Daddy,” Leo agrees, shoulders straightening with determination. Like he’s going to march right over to Katya and heal her himself. “You tummy hurts, Mommy?” he asks, wandering over to the side of her bed. “I make you feel better. I kiss it for you.”

Leo climbs up into bed right alongside her, unworried about catching whatever sickness she has. Thankfully, this one isn’t contagious.

I’m about to go searching for Bastian when he comes bolting back into the room, carrying a large ziplock bag filled to the brim with yellow bottles. He’s breathing hard, looking around wildly in fear and desperation.

“You have to make her better,” he demands, shoving the bag into my hands. Cleo’s old medicine, I understand right away, seeing her name on a few noticeable labels. The sound of rattling pills makes my stomach drop while I process what the hell just happened.

“Bastian, mio figlio, where did you get these?”

“Does she need different ones?” My son sucks in a frightened breath.

“Sweetheart, she doesn’t need any medicine.” He looks like he’s about to burst with an objection when I put my hands on his shoulders, letting the bag fall to the ground. “Bastian, look at me. She’s not sick, okay? Not in the way you’re worried about. She’s going to feel better soon. But you have to tell me where you got this.” Lifting up the bag, I put it between us to indicate what I mean.

I had Cleo’s medicine cabinet cleaned out as soon as she passed, not wanting to risk having controlled substances or powerful medications just around the house at risk of being picked up by either of my kids. But apparently, there’s been a whole fucking bag of them around here somewhere.

“Mama’s hiding place,” Bastian says with a small crack in his voice. “Under the floor, from when she didn’t want you to see.”

Fucking hell, Cleo.