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Elena moves closer and rubs his back. “You can help by walking beside him.”

He thinks about it, then lets me lower him to the floor. I pick up the paper crown, settle it on his head, and walk beside him as Alexei takes his hand. Irina comes in with her bag and follows us to my room. She cleans the cuts around my wrists and covers the worst one with gauze, then presses an ice pack against my shoulder. Once she finishes, we wash our hands at the bathroom sink before checking Alexei.

Irina passes me a clean towel, and I dry my hands. Alexei sits on the edge of my bed. Irina cuts open the side of his shirt, and the loose dressing comes away easily. Most of the incision is still closed, but a small part near the bottom has opened and is bleeding.

I pull on gloves. “Lie back.”

Misha points at me. “You say please.”

Alexei lowers himself onto the pillows. “She doesn’t when she’s worried.”

“I’m standing right here.”

Misha stands beside the bed and watches my hands. “Does it hurt?”

“Yes,” Alexei says.

“Mama says bad words help.”

I stop with the gauze against his skin. “Mama has never said that.”

“You said one when the coffee fell.”

Alexei grins. “Which one?”

“Don’t encourage him.”

Misha leans close and whispers the word into Alexei’s ear.

Alexei looks at me. “He said it correctly.”

Irina turns toward the cabinet, but her shoulders shake.

I secure the clean dressing, then point at Alexei. “You’re staying in this bed until Yelena checks you.”

He catches my wrist before I can move away. His thumb rests below the fresh gauze Irina wrapped around it.

Misha places the yellow car beside Alexei’s thigh, then climbs onto the chair near the bed.

“You can borrow it,” he says. “But I need it back when I sleep.”

Alexei closes his hand around the car. “Understood.”

Elena leans into the room. “Your Majesty, the castle kitchen has sent jam sandwiches and cocoa.”

Misha touches the paper crown on his head. “For the king?”

“For the king and anyone willing to share.”

He looks at Alexei. “I need king fuel. I’ll come back.”

“I’ll be here,” Alexei says.

Misha takes Elena’s hand and follows her into the sitting room. Irina seals the used gauze and gloves inside a medical-waste bag and packs the clean supplies into her medical bag. She carries the waste into the corridor for collection, then joins Yelena in the sitting room to help her check Dmitri. The bedroom door closes softly behind her.

Alexei still holds my wrist.

I look at the torn skin beneath the restraint marks. “I’m sorry.”