Chief herbalist Leorio hunched over his desk as he searched for a salve. "Your father will kill me if that gets infected," he threw over his shoulder, a snarl clawing up through his throat. "You'd better take care of it."

"I will, I will," Killua dismissed. The bleeding had stopped, and Kurapika, who had stepped away from his notarial duties to assist Leorio, was busy dabbing away the dried blood.

Leorio turned slowly, as a wild animal would, and glared at Killua. "Do exactly as I say. Follow every instruction."

"Yes, I know—"

"Every. Single. One." Leorio had approached the bedside and was nearly close enough to press his nose against Killua.

Defeated, Killua nodded. "I promise."

"I'll make sure he does everything you tell him to," Gon piped up. He'd been reclining on another cot, waiting for the herbalists to finish their work. "I've got to lecture him myself, too."

Leorio pressed his lips into a thin line before speaking again. "Good," he said, retreating to a comfortable distance. He placed the vial of salve into Kurapika's hand before retrieving his jacket from the back of his chair and heading toward the door. "Apply that to young Killua's head and give him the rest to apply later. Detailed instructions are on my desk." He narrowed his eyes at Killua. "Don't make us worry so much." With that, he huffed and disappeared around the corner, down the hallway. In the office, silence persisted as Kurapika lifted Killua's bangs and smoothed the salve over the skin.

"You should be more careful, Killua," Kurapika said as he wound bandages around Killua's head. "Leorio seems stern, but he cares for you deeply. He always has."

Feeling guilty, Killua averted his eyes. "I know that."

"He's been very busy lately," Kurapika continued, securing the bandage in place. Stepping away from the bed, he sorted through the scattered papers on Leorio's desk. "This war is brutal. Dozens of soldiers return each day with injuries. Of course, that isn't your fault, but he's a little… well, cranky. We're supposed to take shifts, but I know he's avoided sleeping so he could care for everyone."

"Leorio's awfully kind," Gon said, swinging his legs beneath the cot. "But he's like an old man."

"He doesn't know when to quit," Kurapika said quietly. Shaking his head, he returned to Killua's side with a smile and an envelope. "Instructions for taking care of your injury are inside. Read them and follow them carefully—or else I'll have to send Leorio to check on you, and you don't want that."

Pushing off the cot, Gon scampered over to the end of Killua's bed. "I'll make sure he does everything he's supposed to, and I'll come tell you if he doesn't."

Ruffling the boy's hair, Kurapika allowed himself to laugh. "I can always count on you, Gon," he said. "Stay by Killua's side while he's injured, would you?"

Straightening his back and clapping his heels together, Gon proclaimed, "Yes, sir! I won't leave him even if he wants me to."

Nodding in approval, Kurapika tidied up the desktop a bit before grabbing a basket from the floor. Before leaving, he faced the boys. "Leorio and I will be in the gardens for some time. We've got to replenish our supplies. So if you need either of us, that's where you'll find us. The other herbalists should be around, as well." He withdrew a pocket watch from his vest and opened it. "Melody will be returning from her break soon. And take care of yourselves—both of you."

With that, Kurapika offered a curt nod and followed after Leorio. Killua slid off the bed and stood, stretching.

"How are you feeling, Killua?"

"I told you before," he said. "I'm fine."

Frowning, Gon moved closer so that Killua was forced to look at him. "You've been acting strange all morning," he said, reaching for Killua's hand. To his surprise, Killua didn't resist. Gon smiled as he laced their fingers together and squeezed. "I've been worried."

Humbled by his guilt and something unnameable, Killua stared down at their intertwined hands. "I'm sorry, Gon." That wasn't what Killua wanted to say, but no other words surfaced. He shook his head at himself, as his inability to communicate with the only person in the castle who seemed to understand him.

But Gon didn't seem to mind. He moved toward the doorway and waited. "You should rest," Gon said. "Besides, I've still got to lecture you, and I wouldn't want to embarrass you in public."

Gritting his teeth in something halfway between a grimace and a grin, Killua gathered the items from the herbalists and started after Gon. "Why you little—"

"There you are. Mother has been worried sick."

A dark shadow filled the doorway, and Gon stumbled backward. A creature to be feared, the queen loomed over the boys, her face shielded by a dark veil.

"Mother," Killua said. He had leveled his tone and his chin, hiding his contempt. "You didn't have to visit."

"My darling boy was injured; you think I wouldn't come to check on his condition?" As sharp as her concern was, she didn't enter the room, simply clung to the door frame.

Killua moved to Gon's side so that they both faced the queen directly. "I'm returning to my chambers now, mother. I've got medicine from the herbalists, and Gon will accompany me to assure no more harm comes."

Lifting her chin and tilting her neck at an odd angle, the queen inhaled so the air hissed through her teeth. "Where are the herbalists?"

"They went to the gardens," Gon answered. She snaked a hand out, faster than Gon could react, so her palm connected with his cheek. He braced himself against the wall, avoiding further injury, and the queen regained her composure flawlessly.

"You must not speak unless spoken to," the queen recited. "I did not address you, peasant. You have been granted decided liberties with my son, but do not be so quick to disrespect me."

Gon cupped his cheek but said nothing. Killua bit his tongue, fearful.

When the queen relaxed her shoulders, she said, "Killua, go to your chambers and rest. You." She did not gesture, nor did she move, but the tone of her voice made it clear she was addressing Gon. "Find the herbalists and bring them to me immediately. You are dismissed."

"But mother," Killua managed to interject. "The herbalists instructed Gon to accompany me—to make sure my injury is tended to."

"I don't care what the herbalists told you!" she screeched. "I am the queen and your mother, and you will obey me."

Killua closed his mouth and stared into the space where he knew his mother's eyes were. "Gon is coming with me," he said. "There are plenty of other servants milling around. One of them can do your bidding. Not Gon."

The tension in the air between them grew heavy, growing palpable against Gon's shoulders until he found it hard to breathe.

The queen broke the silence. "Will you be down for dinner?" she asked in a detached tone.

"Have a servant bring it up for me."

"Very well," she said. "Go rest, Killua."

"Yes, mother."

As suddenly as she had arrived, she left, the room seeming brighter in her absence. Gon rested a palm against the cool stone wall and exhaled fully. With the conversation finally over, Killua regained awareness of the room and turned to Gon, marking the spreading bruise on his jawbone. He lifted Gon's chin with his finger, gentle as if he were afraid to damage him.

"Gon, I'm—"

"It's not your fault, Killua," Gon said cheerfully. "I spoke out of turn. I got too excited. It doesn't even hurt anymore!"

"You shouldn't have to be careful," Killua murmured, running the length of his thumb over Gon's face so lightly Gon could barely feel it. "It isn't fair."

The rising pity in Killua's voice gnawed at something within Gon, and he dismissed it, taking Killua's arm and guiding him to the doorway.

"Now, just because we were interrupted, don't you think for a second you're getting out of my lecture," Gon chided. "You're going to lie in bed and do nothing but listen."

"Yes, sir," Killua said with a new smile spreading across his face, easing away the lines of worry etched deeper by the events of the morning.