I must be in… the hospital, I thought somewhat groggily. There was only momentary confusion before I remembered the explosion. I dared a peek down at the rest of my body. Under the loose green tunic I wore, moist strips of cloth had been laid over every part of me, no doubt soaked in special ointments to help the burns heal. I shuddered to think what my face looked like.
Viggo hastily sat up in the seat beside my bed, rubbing sleep from his eyes so they could better focus on me. His hair was standing on end, and there were creases of exhaustion all over his face. He appeared to be wearing the same suit he had for the island’s anniversary celebration, although it was wrinkled and torn in some places. He opened his mouth to speak but no words came. He reached for my hand, but then saw the bandages and thought better of it. He let his hands fall back into his lap. His dear, copper eyes filled with tears before they turned away from me.
“I’m sorry, Asta,” he croaked. “I’m so sorry.”
“Who was the man?” I swallowed and cleared my throat, but it made little difference. “Who was the man that fell out the window?”
Viggo reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a faded piece of worn parchment. He unfolded it and placed it in my lap without a word.
I leaned forward to read it better.
Viggo,
The time has come. I hate to be dramatic, but the hour for my escape is at hand. If you’re reading this, I’m well on my way to freedom. I’m sorry it had to be this way. You know I would have stayed and trained beside you if I could, but my heart won’t be denied. Please, don’t be too angry with me. You’re where you need to be; now I must find where I belong. This isn’t a permanent goodbye. Come meet me at my mother’s herb shop once you’ve graduated. You and Asta both.
I know how you feel about her. Perhaps in the beginning you resented her because you didn’t think her worthy, but it isn’t so anymore. I don’t know when it happened, but I can see your opinions have changed. As has your heart. Don’t be afraid to tell her the truth. Love is no sign of weakness. Take care of her. I’ll ask her to take care of you. Don’t fight her. It’ll make me feel better knowing someone is watching over you in my absence.
I blinked in surprise. “This is the letter Bryn asked me to deliver to you the day he left the academy.”
Viggo laughed, somewhat hoarsely. “You asked me once when it was that I started loving you. I think it was the time you stood up to me at the Feasting Hall. I was surprised, outraged, but also impressed. You weren’t anything like I thought you would be. Bryn has always been quick to help the injured. It’s the doctor in him. But I no longer questioned his choice to give you his respect. You defended yourself so easily in the washroom, without training, without help. After that, I stopped joining the others in sullying your name. I stopped encouraging their gossip. I even silenced a group of young men once, saying if Bryn thought well of you then so should everyone else. You excelled in your classes, you stood up to Director Endre, you told anyone who would listen that you were keeping your true name, and then… you handed me this letter.”
He took back the note and refolded it, eyes downcast. “Bryn said it so casually, so easily. I couldn’t believe it. Love? He was crazy! I hardly knew you. It didn’t make any sense, and yet it was true. I started to take an interest in your well-being as a favor to my friend, but I stayed because it felt as if I had suddenly been given permission to. I watched you train, I watched you grow, and so did my respect and affection. Somehow, without me realizing, you became my treasure to protect.”
Heat rose to my cheeks. Treasure? I thought back to our academy days, back when our friendship had barely begun. The night I was assaulted in my room, Viggo had come to my rescue. That look on his face when he’d seen me, lying on the floor with blood dripping past my lips from where I’d been kicked. He’d been so angry… so protective. I’d assumed it had been because of Bryn’s last words, the ones telling us to take care of one another. I knew he’d do anything for Bryn, even put up with someone he didn’t particularly care for. But he thought me a treasure?
“I vowed to let no harm come to you.” Unaware of my fluttering heart, Viggo crumpled the parchment in his hand. “But time and time again I’ve failed you.”
I reached out to him with my cloth-encased hands. “Don’t say that. The things that have happened to me couldn’t have been prevented by anyone.”
Viggo swung livid eyes to my face. “But I should have done something. I’ve been a step behind since we graduated. I should have told you the truth then. I should’ve fought my hardest during graduation and prevented you from being hired as a Defender. I should’ve kept you away from here!” He shouted those last words, stuffing the crumpled letter into his jacket pocket.
I winced and fell back against my pillows. “Viggo, please, keep your voice down. My ears…”
He pressed his lips together, abandoning his righteous fury and adopting a remorseful look.
“It was Rakim, wasn’t it?” I said, remembering the body falling out of that window. “Rakim is dead.”
Viggo nodded miserably.
“Kalea and Torvald?”
“They’re being treated, but their burns are minor compared to yours,” he said.
“Were there any other casualties?”
“Several guards lining the stage perished in the blast.”
“Any civilians?”
Viggo shook his head.
“Well,” I said in an attempt to be positive, “that’s something. What caused the blast? It was like nothing I’d ever seen before.”
“It appears barrels of oil had been set up under the stage without our knowledge,” Viggo reported somewhat monotonously. “The arrow struck a lit lantern which then ignited the barrels and caused the explosion. It was an incredible shot…”
I braced myself before asking, “How badly is my face burned?”
“Not very badly,” Viggo said, scooting closer. “Your hands protected it. It’s the rest of you that has needed serious tending to. Dr. Ichiro and Bryn have been working around the clock to help you heal.”
“And you’re all right?” I asked, searching the length of him for any sign of injury.
“Yes, I’m fine. I was in the apartment,” he explained. “I asked around until someone remembered seeing him leaving the square and entering the apartment complex. Rakim was tied to a chair when I found him. He was unconscious, but woke when I began freeing him. He had been lured there by Lennart.”
My jaw dropped. “No.”
Viggo nodded grimly. “He returned to the apartment before Rakim was completely freed from his bonds. The counselor liberated himself while I fought Lennart and then ran to the window, most likely with the intent to shout for help. Then my opponent struck me in the face with the butt of his bow and took aim. I heard the arrow fly, but I didn’t stay conscious long enough to see who he shot.” Viggo sat beside me on the bed, face crumpling in shame. “I thought it was me. I was so relieved when I woke. Then I saw the smoke, the chaos in the square, the remains of the stage, and…”
“It wasn’t your fault,” I insisted.
“I gave you my word that no one would die last night and yet eight men did!”
“Again, you couldn’t know what was going to happen. You did what you could and that is all anyone expects from you. Including me. I don’t want to hear another word about it,” I added when he opened his mouth to interrupt. “What became of Lennart? Were we able to catch him?”