She woke up to see the sun shining through the window and Fairy Mary beside the bed. "Oh, thank goodness! Healer! She's awake!" Mary called out the door and hurried back over to take Clarion's hand. "You've been unconscious for two days. We didn't know if..." She burst into tears. "Lord Milori told me what happened. How could you be so reckless!" she wept.

"Mary, it's alright," she said in a voice raspy with disuse. "Is Milori alright?"

"He had to keep his wings packed in ice for a day, but he's fine," she sniffled. "He's been living at the border waiting for news. He tried to come back to the hospital, but he collapsed just feet beyond the border. The healer said he was still exhausted." She wiped away her tears. "The ministers have been holding watch over everything but the council has been on hold."

A healer came in and checked her over. "Another day, Queen Clarion, and you can go home. But you need to not fly for a couple weeks until the muscles heal or you risk permanent damage. We did as much healing as we could. I'll give you honey to apply to your wings to help keep them down to rest, and sugar powder to rub on the skin of your back to help heal it. Every two hours."

Clarion fell asleep again minutes later.

She awoke to find the Minister of Summer beside the bed that night. "Queen Clarion, we are so relieved you're alright. Fairy Mary was at your side since yesterday morning, so I sent her home to sleep. I also have a missive from Lord Milori." She set a parchment on the bedside. "Can I fetch you anything?"

"A water, please."

When she was alone, she opened the letter to read his masculine, yet elegant scrawl.

My lady Clarion,

Fairy Mary tells me you're conscious now and you should be alright. I'm so relieved. I've been terrified of the extent of damage. She said that they think your muscles tore but your wing is sound enough. I hope that with time, you'll be able to have full use again.

Forgive me, I told you that I would return but I haven't. I find I'm having difficulty tolerating the warmth to any degree. I hope you will be out of the hospital by then, but if not, I'll come as soon as I'm able.

Rest and do as the healers say.

Yours,

Milori

She closed the letter and held it in her hand as she stared out the window.

Fairy Mary returned that evening, and Clarion instantly showed her the letter.

"What does it mean? What does 'yours' mean? Your what?" Clarion fretted.

Mary carefully folded up the letter with a smile. "Oh my, Clarion," she breathed. "I wish I had a letter like that."

"Like what? I don't understand. He sounds so concerned but he said when he left what an awful fairy I was. Alright, I was awful right then but...oh, Mary. I don't need this confusion right now," she sighed in misery.

Mary just smiled.

Clarion was stiff from being in bed for five days, and she needed the cold anyways. She allowed a guard to come along to the border, too exhausted to argue or try sneaking out. She crossed, promising to stay right on the other side in view. The cold. All she needed was the cold to ease the pain in her back.

"Clarion."

She didn't need to turn to know who it was.

Milori was suddenly engulfing her in a fragile hug. "Why are you here? Your body can't take the strain right now." He pulled back and gently stroked her cheek, searching her eyes for what was wrong.

"The healer said the cold might help," she said tiredly, slowly turned, and untied her cape to expose part of her back.

"Oh, Neverland," he whispered. "Your back is completely purple with bruising," he said in horror and softly touched it.

Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she slightly sagged against his hand as it brought relief from the pain. He pulled her cape back on and then gently wrapped an arm around her waist. He looked to the guard. "I'll return her in the morning."

"My lord-"

"I'll build her a fire. She'll be fine."

"But-"

Milori very carefully lifted her into his arms and flew into the woods. He took her to a cave that sheltered them from the wind. Then he set her down and built a fire large enough to keep her warm. Walking to the edge of the cave, he whistled.

Mountain came flying in.

Milori made a cooing sound, and Mountain plucked out a couple feathers to offer to Milori. "Thank you, friend," he said and started weaving the feathers together.

"You can talk to him?" she asked softly as she grew drowsy from the heat of the fire.

"All winter fairies can speak to owls," he said distractedly and then laid the feather blanket down. He gently pulled off her cape and made a bed near the fire. Then he helped her lie down on her side and pulled up the edges to cover her wings, leaving some of the skin on her bruised back exposed.

"Milori?"

"Shhh. Sleep." He laid down behind her-not too close-on a sheet of ice he crafted and softly rested his hands on her back.

She sighed with relief. "Won't you get too hot from the fire?"

"That's why I'm lying on the ice," he answered, the smile apparent in his voice. He was suddenly serious. "Why did you do it?"

"You were right about everything. I abused my power because I was angry," she said softly. "I was having a tantrum. I'm always scared," she whispered. "And I'm so lonely I cry every night. I hate being the queen because it means being alone for a thousand years."

"You aren't alone. So many fairies love you, Clarion."

"Mary is the only one who loves me. No one understands," she sighed. "Not tonight, Milori-I'm too exhausted to argue tonight." She closed her eyes. And she thought she felt a cold brush on her cheek as she fell asleep.