Page 177 of The Crown’s Temptation

"You need to take care of yourself," I said.

"I am."

"No. You are not. Clearly." I looked at him. "I do not know much about what you need to sustain but whatever you have been doing it has not been enough."

I pressed the back of my hand to his forehead.

He was burning.

The creature knocked and I opened the door to find a tray with a decanter of blood. I nodded my thanks and carried it to where Teorin sat. His hands were trembling when he reached for it so I set the decanter aside and took the spoon from the table and brought it to his lips that way, slowly, the way you fed someone who could not feed themselves.

He did not protest. That told me more than anything else.

When it was done I helped him with his shirt, working the buttons carefully while he sat very still.

"Why are you helping me?" he said. His voice was hoarse. “I do not deserve it. After what I have done to you.”

He grabbed my wrist. “I lost control. I am sorry. I—I should not be around you. Someone should kill me.”

I frowned. He had crossed many boundaries, including insisting on sleeping in the same bed as me. Not to mention the human on her knees at breakfast. But in those moments he did not seem to care. He was behaving as though we had an interaction that had recently caused me harm.

“What are you talking about, Teorin?”

“There was so much blood,” he whispered.

Despite myself, I took his hand. “You are feverish and not thinking clearly. There is no blood anywhere. I am fine.”

“I do not deserve your help,” he said, voice hoarse.

Part of me agreed. But there was another part that could not help but remember the past.

"Do you remember when I had a fever and could not walk or move or even think?" I said. "How you helped me."

"Yes."

I laughed despite myself. "Do you remember the Weaver?"

Something moved through his face. He nodded.

I had never seen him like this. It was difficult to process. The man who had watched me from outside my father's estate for years, who had agreed to drain me and decided not to, who had carried something enormous and private for a very long time, was sitting here trembling while I fed him blood from a spoon.

I helped him lean back against the pillows and went to the closet and found a blanket and brought it back and tucked it around him the way I would have done for Ari or Fiorakis.

I sat on the edge of the bed.

"Perhaps it is time for you to return to Thrykis," I said quietly. "You were healthier of mind and body before you came here."

The guilt sat in my chest like something with weight as I thought about him giving me blood and marrow so that I could survive.

His voice was hoarse when he answered. "There is no Ashen in Thrykis."

He laughed. It came out rough and low and not entirely his.

His eyes were fighting to stay open and losing.

"Sleep," I said. “For now, there is Ashen right here.”

I watched him sleep, smiling despite myself at how boyish he looked.