Chapter Eleven

Kalasin woke up hung over. Her head was pounding; her muscles and eyelids felt heavy and leaden, and her eyes kept losing focus. She saw a shadowy blur that might be Kaddar, and tried to say his name. What came out was an incomprehensible mumbling sound.

"It's horribly unromantic, isn't it?" he asked sympathetically, coming to sit down next to her. She winced at the sound of his voice, and to her surprise, he put her head on his lap, cradling it gently. "First hangovers are the worst kind." His fingers kneaded her temples. "You did drink far too much, though."

"Spare me the lecture," she croaked. "Fix it. Please."

He had the temerity to chuckle. "It's not as easy as it sounds, you know."

Kalasin fought to keep her eyes open. "You're making the remedy sound terrible. What do I have to do, let you poke my bare ribs and forehead with a quill for two hours straight?"

"No, just your ribs."

She gave him a baleful glare. "You're enjoying this, aren't you? Watching me suffer?"

Kaddar sighed. "No, you bratty little girl. If I intended to watch you suffer, I wouldn't have brought a bottle of anti-hangover potion with me."

"…Oh." She accepted the goblet a little shakily, and downed the potion in a moment. It burned its way down, making her choke and sputter. It did calm her stomach, though, and the pounding in her head ceased slowly. Cracking her eyes open, she found Kaddar giving her a smug look, practically screaming What did I tell you?

"Feh," was her eloquent response as she settled back against the cushions. "And I am not a bratty little girl," she added sulkily. "It makes me sound like some irritating young cousin."

He grinned at her. "You're back to normal. I worried for nothing."

"You didn't have to worry," Kalasin informed him, nose in the air. "I had the situation well under control."

"Ah. So, when you practically fell on top of me last night—which was a very unpleasant experience, I assure you—and almost passed out, that was having the situation under control? And," he continued, "and your distressed mumblings reached the point when you were almost in tears about something, was that having the situation under control?"

Kalasin gaped. "You're angry," she observed, leaning a little further back into the pillows.

He glared at her. "Why wouldn't I be angry? You were shaky all through the dances last night—I could feel that. After we got back, you kept tossing and turning and then you almost fainted. This isn't the first time you've gotten mildly tipsy, either. I know that you're only eighteen, but you should know your limits on wine by now!"

Kalasin's jaw dropped. "All right, yesterday I drank a little bit more than I should have. Can you blame me? I was upset and stressed. And this is, what, the second time I've not been completely sober? Last time I was only wobbling a bit! What does my age have to do with this, anyway! You throw it in my face whenever we argue. Just because I'm younger doesn't mean that I can't take care of myself!"

She threw the covers off and stalked away, and Kaddar growled in frustration. He caught up to her in a moment, and, locking her wrists in a tight grip, pulled her an inch away from him. "For once, I want you to listen." The shocked Kalasin nodded slowly, and he pulled her a little closer. "First, I do not throw it in your face every time we argue. Has it ever occurred to you that I yell at you and worry about you for a reason? You're younger than me and there are things that I know that you don't, and that's a statement of fact.

"I have to look out for you, don't you understand that! I don't want you getting hurt or sick or dead, all right?"

She had stared at him wide-eyed for the entirety of his tirade, and he noticed with a sense of dread that her eyes were filling up with tears. "Wait, I…" he pulled her back to him, wrapping his arms around her awkwardly. "Don't cry."

Kalasin buried her head in his shoulder, and he could feel her entire body shaking. She gasped for breath, unable to keep her sobs silent, and he tried to stroke her hair and back soothingly. He felt like hitting himself over and over. He had made Kalasin cry. Strange as it may sound, he would rather have her yell and rage at him then have her crying all over his tunic.

He pulled her away from him with difficulty, and wiped the tears from her cheeks clumsily. "Kalasin…" The emperor pressed his fingers under her chin, forcing her to look up at him. Her eyes, cheeks, and nose were red, and she was biting her lip hard.

"Don't do that," he murmured softly. "You'll make it bleed."

She released the soft skin immediately, and he pulled her back against him. This time, her arms wrapped around his neck as well, and her head rested against his chest. "I'm sorry," she whispered, sounding choked. "So sorry."

Kaddar just hugged her back tightly. "You have nothing to be sorry about," he said firmly.

There was a small sniffling sound as she pulled away from him and sat down on the window seat. He didn't know what to do as she hugged her knees close. "I hate crying," she muttered, before wiping her face hard and looking up at him directly. "Can we…forget this ever happened?"

He was silent for a moment, regarding her. She gave him a small smile. "Empresses don't cry. And I'll be nineteen in a month, and nineteen-year-olds don't cry, either."

Kaddar smiled back, tentatively. "So you wish it, so it shall be," he teased gently, helping her up. "You're going to go back to sleep now, all right?"

"Fine," Kalasin said as they walked back into their room. "But if you even think about tucking me in, I'll scream."

"Hah. If you ever get so drunk as to ask me to tuck you in, I'll scream."

Kalasin gave his hand an impulsive squeeze. "I have standards, you know."

"That's news to me," he muttered.

Kalasin got back into bed; feeling the stress and exhaustion of the past hour catch up to her. The light fingers of sleep ran through her hair and caressed her back, brushing her face and kissing her troubles away…

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