Saving the Immortal

Chapter Forty-Nine: Falling

We left in the dark of night, exactly as the plan required — no fanfare, no farewells that might draw unwanted attention, only a small, carefully chosen company slipping through the palace gates while the rest of the household slept unaware.

Ruselon had gathered a substantial guard for the journey, dozens of soldiers whose loyalty he trusted absolutely, and Bess had insisted, without any argument I bothered to offer, on accompanying us along with two additional maids who had served the household long enough to have earned Ruselon's own trust as well.

We rode through the night beneath a sky heavy with stars, the pace swift but not reckless, Ruselon's horse close beside my own the entire way.

We had traveled several hours, well beyond the borders of his father's — now his brothers' contested — kingdom, when the dizziness struck me without any proper warning.

One moment I sat steady in my saddle, the rhythm of the horse's gait familiar and easy beneath me, and the next the world tilted violently, my vision narrowing at its edges, my grip on the reins loosening before I could properly account for what was happening to my own body.

"Ruselon—" I managed, my voice thin, the word barely leaving me before darkness claimed my sight entirely.

I felt myself falling.

I do not remember the impact.

I remember only fragments — Ruselon's voice, sharp with terror, calling my name across a distance that felt considerably farther than it likely was. The sensation of arms catching me before I struck the ground properly. Movement, urgent and swift, the company halting entirely as concern rippled through the traveling party.

"IVY—" His voice again, closer now, frantic in a manner I had rarely heard from him.

I could not answer.

The darkness held me too completely, my body simply refusing whatever effort consciousness demanded, and I drifted somewhere beyond proper awareness while voices continued around me, urgent and worried, none of them fully penetrating the fog that had claimed me.

"Thank the stars we had already left the kingdom," I heard Bess say, her voice cutting through the fog more clearly than the others, closer to me now, her hands checking my pulse with practiced concern. "Had this happened within your brothers' reach, my lord, I dread to think what such weakness might have cost her."

"Is she breathing properly," Ruselon said, his voice still tight with fear.

"She is," Bess confirmed. "Simply overcome, I believe. The stress of these past weeks, the danger, the sudden departure in the dead of night — it is a great deal for any woman to carry, my lord, princess or otherwise. The body can only bear so much strain before it demands rest, whether we permit it the time or not."

"We should have left more slowly," Ruselon said, guilt entering his voice now. "I pushed the pace too hard."

"You did what safety required," Bess said gently. "Do not fault yourself for that, my lord. She simply needs proper rest now, and careful attention until her strength returns fully."

"We make camp here," Ruselon said finally, his voice carrying the particular firm command of a man who would brook no argument on the matter. "She needs rest before we continue any further."

The company moved around me, tents and provisions being arranged with swift efficiency, and I felt myself lifted gently, carried to whatever shelter had been quickly assembled, laid down upon blankets that smelled faintly of horse and travel and the particular comfort of Ruselon's own presence remaining close beside me throughout.

I woke sometime later to find him kneeling beside me, his face etched with worry even in the dim light of a small fire.

"Ivy," he said immediately, relief flooding his features the moment my eyes opened properly. "You are awake. How do you feel?"

"Tired," I admitted, my voice weak still. "What happened?"

"You fell from your horse," he said. "Fainted, mid-ride. I have never been more frightened in my entire existence, watching you slip from that saddle with no warning whatsoever."

"I am sorry," I said. "I did not mean to frighten you."

"You need not apologize," he said, taking my hand gently. "You have carried the weight of everything these past weeks — my temper, my father's death, the contest, this sudden flight in the middle of the night. It is no wonder your body finally demanded you rest, whether either of us was prepared for it or not."

"I feel foolish," I admitted, "fainting so plainly in front of the entire company."

"You need not feel foolish," he said. "You need only rest, and let Bess and the others tend to you properly. We are far enough from the kingdom now that whatever danger my brothers represent cannot easily reach us here. You are safe, Ivy. We are safe."

I closed my eyes again, exhaustion still heavy over me, though comforted considerably by the warmth of his hand still holding mine, and the knowledge that whatever had caused my collapse, we had at least escaped the more immediate danger before it could claim any advantage from my weakness.

"Sleep now," he said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. "We will continue toward Aldmere once you have properly recovered. There is no need to hurry further tonight."

I let his voice carry me back toward sleep, grateful for the quiet safety of that small camp, however far we still had left to travel before reaching whatever uncertain welcome awaited us at his mother's old allies' door.