The doctor arrived an hour later. An hour of Kat trying to read, pace, do her forms, and generally staying away from Riolf, who dozed the whole hour. Kat didn't like that he was sleeping so much, but she couldn't bring herself to rouse him. She remembered other people who had fallen ill when she was a child. They had slept a lot too. Then one day they simply... never woke up.

I'll let him sleep until the doctor comes, she decided. We'll see what he has to say.

She could hear a lot of bustling downstairs. The sound of a door opening and closing. A few moments later, there was a knock on the door. Kat rose, bidding whomever it was to enter.

"Your Grace." Asola curtsied. "The doctor is here."

"Show him in at once," said Kat. She mentally noted to herself where the various dagger were hidden around the room in the event she should need them.

Asola curtsied again and left. When she returned, the physician from the attack was with her. His face was as serious as before, but not as grave as Kat had been expecting given that the duke was ill.

"Duchess Quir," he said, bowing. Riolf sat up and the doctor greeted him as well. "How are you feeling, Your Grace?"

Riolf yawned. "Not my best. I believe it to be only an out of season cold, but I wanted to be certain it wasn't anything more serious."

Setting his bag on the bed, the physician nodded. "That was wise of you. One can never be too careful with illnesses." He began his inspection while Kat kept an eye on him. He showed no signs of aggression, but she didn't want to be careless while Riolf was so vulnerable.

Finally, the doctor gave his judgement. "You were right, 'tis only an off-seaon cold. I expect you shall be well in a few days. You likely caught it because your body was exhausted trying to mend your wounds and reset from the ordeal in the castle. Allow yourself to rest and you'll feel better soon. I've brought some medicine to help with the cough."

The doctor doesn't seem worried, thought Kat doubtfully. It must be all right.

The doctor took his leave after that, also advising plenty of water. Kat and Riolf remained in their room for the rest of the day, Riolf resting and Kat trying to find ways to cure boredom.

When evening finally painted the sky, Kat was considering an early bedtime. But I don't want to sleep in bed with him—he might share the illness with me. What if I wake up and he's dead? I don't want to be in the same bed as a dead man. I can't leave him by himself, of course. Perhaps he will allow me to have a cot or blankets sent up...

Footsteps ascended the stairs and Kat sat up straight when they came towards the bedroom.

"Your Grace?" Asolsa rapped gently on the door.

Riolf twitched a little, then woke up from his light doze. "Enter." He yawned as he stretched his neck from side to side.

"You have a visitor," the maid said once she had open the door. "He refused to give a name. He said only to call him Comrade."

Kat glanced to her so-called husband to see what he thought of that. His eyebrows raised slightly in acknowledgement. "I see. You had better send him in immediately." As soon as the maid left, Riolf looked at Kat. "Katarina, this will be a private meeting. Please find another activity to occupy you while we speak." His tone was serious. Horribly serious and stern. Riolf had never possessed an unyielding manner in his voice towards her before—he always tried to make her feel equal, with independent choices.

Kat stood, her eyebrows drawing together. "But I need to be here to protect you."

"I shall require no protection. No go." Riolf's eyes, always so warm, became more severe than she had ever seen. Kat studied them before turning away and walking to the door. She hesitated before leaving, but his gaze was sharp on her back, so she continued and quietly closed the door behind herself.

Something is wrong. She stood outside the room, confusion and panic beginning to bloom in her stomach. Is he going mad? Is it the sickness? Or is that what Riolf is really like when he hasn't the energy to put up a face of gentleness?

Someone was ascending the stairs. Their footfalls were quick and sprightly, jogging up the massive set. Asola appeared with a man, walking towards Riolf's room. He looked to be around Kat's age. His hair was a black-brown shade and grown out, but not as long as Jayden's. It curled a little, falling on his forehead and over his ears. The light stubble on his face didn't look styled, just unshaved, the indifferent quality matching his common clothes. There was a knife with jagged edges strapped to his right side, but his face had an agreeable, almost cheerful, expression and a smile flitted across his lips when he saw Kat.

"Hello," she said when he was nearer. "I am Duchess Quir."

He stopped in front of her and bowed. "Your Grace. How is the duke? I heard he was unwell." His voice was light, and she could see his eyes were brown—several shades darker than Riolf's.

"He is. The doctor believes he will recover shortly," she replied, the familiar stab of fear darting through her stomach. I hope he's right. "Would you please introduce yourself?"

He hesitated. "You can just call me Comrade, Your Grace. Everyone else does." His posture was relaxed, and his face never lost the pleasant look. In fact, he gained a new glint in his eyes, but it looked harmless.

Comrade? Why wouldn't he use his real name? I do not like this at all. She forced a small smile on her face. "I see. And why do you carry a weapon with you into my home?" Perhaps playing the part of a concerned housewife will keep his suspicion over my questions away.

"Katarina." Riolf's voice rumbled through the door. "Enough. Send him in and attend to duties elsewhere."

Her green eyes slid over to the door, eyebrows drawing together in worry. There's that sternness again. Is it his illness? Or is he really that severe? "Apologies," she said, half to the duke and half to the guest. "It was a pleasure to meet you." She nodded to Comrade when he bowed, then quietly walked towards the stairs.

The door opened and closed behind her and Asola fell in step with Kat's shadow. Kat meandered past the stairs while the maid descended. As soon as Asola was out of sight, Kat spun around and stole back down the hall until she was in front of the door again, catching the end of Riolf's sentence.

"—to report."

"He's becoming... ambitious. Cocky. He plans on attacking the North in the next year in hopes he will take hold of their riches and land. Jayden is no fool, he wouldn't go against Tranntu unless he has reason to believe he would win. We know nothing of his strategy yet. He has only shared plans with his most trusted personnel as far as we know."

"He has spoken of Tranntu's land in our meetings, but he has mentioned nothing about their riches nor his plan to attack them. He may be intent on imprisoning me before he strikes so there will be no opposition." A bought of coughing interrupted him. "If I am arrested, we will lose all."

"Not so. You still have my father and I through everything."

"Your loyalty is commendable, but if I am imprisoned, I wish for you to stay out of trouble. There is no reason for you to be caught as well. Jayden may have mercy on me because I am an old friend, but he will show no quarter to any allies of mine. I have no wish for you and your father to be killed."

Comrade's voice had a hint of laughter in it. "Perhaps you should have thought of that before you decided to stage a revolution."

Kat felt like a chasm opened in her stomach. Revolution... So it's true. Riolf is trying to overthrow Jayden. How could he do this? I thought he was a friend—both to me and Jayden. How will I ever get the king to believe me? And if he does... this will crush his heart. Riolf is his closest friend. How do I even get word to Jayden without drawing suspicion?

"Any revolution is going to have to wait until I am at full health again," said Riolf ruefully. "My illness is most unfavorably timed."

"As are your wound from the attack. Did you have to get yourself hurt so badly?"

Riolf chuckled. "At least I look unsuspicious. No one is going to accuse me of sending assassins after the king since I am in such poor condition. Hopefully that will ward off my impending prison sentence."

So Riolf did try to have Jayden killed. How could he betray his friend—his king? All for a throne that I'm not even sure will be his.

"You should go," said Riolf. "I do not wish to detain you. For now, my orders are to stay low and not draw attention to you or your father. I don't want you imprisoned before we even attempt to claim the throne. I need you."

"Thank you for your concern. I'll do my best. Heal quickly, Your Majesty."

Kat almost gasped at the title. Only the king was permitted to be addressed in that way. Comrade had true faith in Riolf if he was prematurely addressing him as "Your Majesty." She quietly streaked to the end of the hall, spinning around and pretending to be approaching when Comrade exited the bedroom.

He grinned when he saw her. "Your Grace," he said, making a bow. "May I say that the duke has been very privileged to have you as his wife. Your beauty is comparable to the stars."

"Oh," Kat replied uncomfortably. Her heart was skipping nervously as she stared at the enemy of the king. "Thank you. Might I escort you to the door?"

"If it means I am allowed more time in your presence, then by all means, Your Grace." He threw a quick wink at her, brown eyes mischievously bright.

Kat didn't know what to say to that, so she gestured towards the stairs and began walking. "How did you know my husband?" she asked, trying to seem like she was making simple conversation.

"We've been friends for a few years now. When I heard he was sick, I wanted to check on him." Comrade's answer was friendly yet revealed nothing about himself or his relationship with Riolf.

"I see," she murmured.

"Where do you come from?"

Kat scrambled to come up with an answer. "A small village in southern Driem."

"Really? Your accent is much more northern than I would think someone from the south's would be." He glanced at her.

Say something reasonable! "Yes, ah, well, I pick up on accents very easily. It doesn't take long for me to begin to speak like the people around me." Kat was relieved to arrive at the huge front doors. "Thank you for visiting Riolf. I'm sure he enjoyed having a friend to speak with."

"Yes, it was wonderful to see him again." Comrade bowed once more. "As I hope to see you again, Your Grace."

"Travel safe," she said, nodding at him as he pulled open one huge door.

"Thank you, Your Grace, and good health to you."

"My thanks." When he closed the door, Kat relaxed her shoulders. She returned to the bedroom, nodding at Riolf when she entered. "Did you have an enjoyable visit today?"

"As much as I could," replied Riolf. "Katarina... what is going on with Comrade and I is a private matter. I do not wish for you to investigate him in any way. I assure you; he can be trusted and poses no threat to me."

Kat didn't look at him, instead keeping her eyes on her hands, although her focus was on their conversation. "I apologize for my error. I was only trying to keep you safe." He seems desperate to keep me from finding out anything about Comrade.

He sighed. "I know you were just doing what you were enlisted to do, and I think highly of you for it. But in this case, I need you to keep your distance."

"All right." Kat did her best to gracefully sink into a chair.

Riolf was quiet for a moment, watching her, then said, "speaking of keeping distance, you have been keeping a considerable space between us all day. Is everything all right?"

She stiffened slightly. "Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"I just don't want to get sick as well. It wouldn't do to have a dea—" she cleared her throat, "ill bodyguard."

Riolf rubbed the freckled side of his face with his knuckles. "Do you think I am dying, Katarina?"