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He nodded at them before he came to me.
“That was a hard training session,” he said.
I nodded.
“You’re pushing them very hard.”
“It’s the only way to snap them into shape.”
Ren nodded. “I hear you…but they’re not machines. They can’t all train as hard from the start as you do now. You’ve had a lot of years’ training.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Are you questioning my method?”
“No. You’re good at what you do. The warriors are in good shape. I wouldn’t have kept you on here if I thought you weren’t doing a good job. But you can’t take out your feelings on them.”
I bristled and wanted to clap back with a snarky remark, but I swallowed it. Ren was like a brother to me, but he was still my king. He was also right, which pissed me off.
“How’s Deron doing?” I asked, changing the topic instead.
“He’s the same,” Ren said, and his face clouded. “He’s not getting better. He’s not getting worse, which I thank the goddess for every day. Will you come see him?”
I frowned. “What can I do?”
“I don’t know. At this point, I’m out of ideas. He’ll like seeing you, anyway. He loves you.”
I grunted. Deron was cute. He was the spitting image of Ren, and if the power he presented now was anything to go by, he would be a king to be reckoned with one day.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll see him.”
Ren and I walked into the palace. We followed the hallways to the royal quarters, where the king and queen slept, spent private time, and where the royal nursery was situated.
When we walked into Deron’s large nursery, I could sense the sickness. It hung in the air like smoke.
“What is this?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Ren admitted. His brows knitted together in worry. “That’s what bothers me so much. We’re not getting anything from Terra, either. Nylah is asking, but it’s…it’s not working.”
I put my hand on Ren’s shoulder. “It’s going to be okay.”
“I wish I knew that for fact,” Ren sighed as we passed the play area with the giant bean bag chairs and the bed fit for the crown prince. “I don’t know if I’m a paranoid parent or if this is really bad, but I keep expecting the worst.”
I wish I knew what to say to make Ren feel better.
We neared Deron’s playpen, where he lay on the spongy floor, his head on a pillow. He held a bottle in pudgy hands and kicked his legs listlessly while he drank.
When he saw me and Ren, he offered us a grin around the bottle.
His cheeks were bright red with fever, his dark hair matted with sweat. He wore only a t-shirt and his diaper.
“Hey, big guy,” I said and let myself into the pen. “You’re looking a little under the weather, huh? Your cheeks are as red as my warriors’ cheeks were. Have you been fighting the bad guys behind our backs?”
I tickled Deron, and he giggled weakly.
I glanced up at Ren. “I don’t have healing power.”
“No, but you have something. Just try, please.”
The pleading tone in the King’s voice killed me, so I nodded.
