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“Stop it. Don’t go back to sleep, I said. Open your eyes.”
Blake’s eyes sprang open, and he was gazing up into Davos’s handsome, stern face, only inches above his.
“W-what happened?”
“An explosion in the conference room upstairs, we think, which is over this room. The ceiling is collapsing and unstable, so we have to get out. You were hit by the doors and injured. I’m going to carry you, so don’t struggle or fight me. We need to get out of this building before the whole thing comes down on top of us.”
“Okay.”
He glanced down at Blake and shook his head, though Blake wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was because he was so willing to do whatever Davos wanted or asked of him, when he hadn’t been so compliant before. But just like long ago on Tygeria, he was hurt and sick and only wanted comfort. He closed his eyes and snuggled close into the king’s arms as he picked him up and carried him out of the building.
Outside, there was complete chaos, with sirens blaring and people shouting all around him. When King Davos emerged, he was immediately surrounded, with many voices calling out to him. Someone tried to pull Blake away from him, but he replied to them in anger, as Blake hid his face against Davos’s broad chest. The king kept holding him tightly against his body. The light and noise were making his head throb in a sick, steady rhythm. Before long, Blake was being handed over to the medical personnel, who had already converged on the hotel, but not before King Davos had leaned in and spoke to him in his ear.
“I’ll check on you later,” he said. “You’re going to be fine, but you have to go with them now and do everything they tell you.”
Blake was put into a hospital shuttle and whisked off to the nearest trauma center, and for the next few hours he was in and out of consciousness. All he remembered was a lot of people in white coats with various instruments poking and prodding at him until someone finally injected something in his arm, and that was the last he knew for a long time.
He awoke to a room that smelled of antiseptic with the worst headache he’d ever had in his life. He could feel the throb of it with each heartbeat. He remembered he was alone in Atrillia, hundreds of miles away from his home. And he had no idea how he was going to pay the hospital bill. He needed to go home, but he didn’t think he could make it. Maybe he could go back to his hotel room, because that bill was still being racked up too, and if he could get a good night’s rest, maybe he could leave in the morning. His head was hurting so badly by that time, that he didn’t even question that judgement.
With some difficulty, he levered himself up off the bed and sat on the side, waiting for his heartbeat to slow down and the sick throbbing in his head to calm a little. When it finally did, he lowered himself gingerly to the floor and it was at that exact moment that the door opened, and King Davos stood framed in the doorway.
He was wearing clothes that were almost casual in nature, or at least more casual than Blake had ever seen. It was a kind of uniform, Blake realized, like the guards wore. Obviously more expensive though and they looked custom made to fit his muscular body. He also looked tired and held a small bottle of water in his hand. He stopped on the threshold and stared at Blake in disbelief. “What are you doing?”
“Oh, Your Majesty. You see, I-I don’t have any money. I need to get out of here.”
“No, you really don’t.”
“But I was just leaving.”
“No, you’re not.”
He came over and in a matter-of-fact manner, pulled down Blake’s hospital gown, which he belatedly realized had somehow ridden up around his waist. He lifted Blake in his arms and put him gently back to bed, pulling the covers over him again, before reached over him for the call button.
A small voice crackled over the system, and Blake heard Davos ask for a nurse.
“Why are you calling a nurse?”
“Because you’re in pain, aren’t you?”
“Yes, but I don’t think they can give me anything for pain because of my head injury. I can’t pay for it anyway.”
“Nonsense.”
The door opened and a nurse poked her head in the door. She blanched as she recognized the king and quickly came inside. “Oh, Your Majesty. Did you need something?”
“Mr. Cameron needs help in managing his pain.”
“Of course. I’ll be right back, Mr. Cameron.”
The king looked down at Blake. He still looked disapproving. The nurse disappeared again as Davos took a seat next to Blake’s bed. His sitting there calmly beside Blake was so incongruous that Blake knew he must be dreaming.
“I don’t understand what’s happening,” Blake said, peering at the king in the dim light, and Davos smiled.
“You’re probably dreaming, don’t you think?”
“Yes. That must be what this is.”
“Close your eyes then. After the nurse gives you some medicine, you can go back to sleep.”
