The door smacked Mouse in the spine. He jolted awake, arcing his back against the pain. “Ow, fuck. Be careful!”

“I’m so sorry, Mouse,” Felix replied, concerned. He knelt down and reached out, a healing spell already on his fingertips.

Mouse’s eyes widened. He jumped up. “Felix—er, Your Majesty. I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting you.”

Felix chuckled. “At ease, at ease. I’ve seen you far worse by now.”

“Sorry about that,” Mouse muttered, glancing aside.

“No, no. You did it for my sake. I understand.” Felix smiled, then paused, awkward. “Er… usually you’re on the bed for this, but… I guess we can just stand, if you’d rather.”

“For… what?” Mouse asked, hesitant.

“For… I, er, I usually purify you around this time. I don’t know if it helps, but…”

Mouse smiled. “Of course. It can’t hurt. But if you don’t mind, I’d rather stand.”

“Of course, of course, it would be, er, awkward, if we were both awake and… aha… anyways,” Felix said, waving his hand.

“Awkward? How?”

“Er, well, it’s… never mind. Close your eyes. I’ll start the ritual.”

“As Your Majesty wishes.” Chuckling quietly to himself, Mouse obeyed.

Light played over his body, bright against his closed eyelids. It burned, faintly, like salt in a wound, and he sucked a deep breath. Deep inside, something writhed. His veins twisted, spiking with pain, an ache worse than any poison digging through his innards. Mouse crumpled in on himself. His hands clawed into his gut. Hurts, it hurts, it hurts!

The light faded. Felix grabbed his shoulders. “Mouse, are you—”

“Keep going!” he groaned, pushing Felix away.

Biting his lip, Felix retracted his hands.

Light burned at him again, fighting the blight deep inside. Get out! Go, already! he snarled silently, face contorted into a grimace. The blight fought back, twisting deeper, sinking further into his core. The light clipped back its edges, but the heart of the blight remained. Slowly, the light cut away at its edges, forcing it back, further, deeper. Mouse urged on the light. Come on! You’ve almost got it!

The light faded. Felix lowered his hands.

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“Keep… keep going,” Mouse panted. He staggered and caught himself on the bedpost. Almost! So close!

“It’s… over. That’s it,” Felix replied.

“Dammit, so close,” Mouse grumbled. He glanced at Felix and mentally slapped himself. That’s not Fell, that’s the Mage-Emperor. Best behavior, Mouse!

“I’m sorry. Maybe… maybe there’s another ritual. Something stronger. I can search the library…”

Mouse cleared his throat and put on a professional smile. “You’ve already done so much for me. How could I trouble Your Majesty? I can’t thank you enough for helping me keep the blight at bay.”

“I’ll keep looking. We’ll figure this out, Mouse. Don’t give up hope.” Felix smiled and clapped him on the shoulder.

“Even coming back this far is incredible. By all rights, I should be a darkfoe now,” Mouse replied, laughing.

A troubled expression flashed over Felix’s face. He hesitated, then nodded. “Right, I…”

Dayander burst into the room. “Mouse! Are you presentable? The Mage-Emperor—oh my.” Hurriedly, he dropped to a bow. “Good morning, Your Majesty.”

“No, no, please. I was just about to leave.” Felix nodded at Dayander and Mouse, then retreated.

Dayander bowed until Felix left the room, then rounded on Mouse. He herded him over to the armoire and hesitated, hands fluttering, not sure where to start. “If you’re going to play at being lucid, then at least brush your hair! Let’s make you presentable. And put on an actual dress! Enough with this flimsy nightgown nonsense. You might seduce the Mage-Emperor galivanting around in that thing, and then where would we all be?”

“He’s seen me in less,” Mouse said flippantly.

Dayander’s eyes widened, brush frozen halfway to Mouse’s hair. “When was this?”

“I wouldn’t worry about it. Ow!”

With the full strength of a grown moon elf, Dayander yanked the brush through Mouse’s tangles. “Like it or not, I’m going to make you look like a normal, sane princess!”

“I am sane.”

“Arguably. Mind Sabelyn, by the way. Her claws are out, and she’s looking for someone to sink them into. Preferably you, from what I understand.”

“How so?” Mouse asked.

Dayander grunted, pulling at a particularly difficult knot. “Your little stunt at the Arena embarrassed her in front of the king, the Mage-Emperor, and everyone. It was her report that you negated, after all. Necessarily, but… ah, and the king, the king is not happy. You embarrassed him as well… put us all in a difficult spot, and then became useless, which did nothing to help our case. If not for your thorough, shall we say, hold over His Majesty the Mage-Emperor, we would be on our way back to Soanna right now, if not worse.”

Mouse shrugged. “I knew it would cause trouble, but at the same time, I couldn’t let it pass.”

“You could have,” Dayander replied.

“Blight in the humans’ capitol is a threat to us all, Dayander, politics or no. I couldn’t let it go.”

“There were other ways to handle it. More delicate ways. Ways that didn’t anger both the king and the leading heir of our host country.”

“It pissed off Reginald?” Mouse asked.

Dayander gave him a look. “Do you really think that fool will end up running this country?”

“By blood, and the humans’ succession rites…”

“Just because the humans don’t openly battle amongst their heirs as us moon elves do, doesn’t mean the path to the throne is bloodless or without contention,” Dayander replied, swapping the brush for a comb to smooth out Mouse’s untangled hair. “Even if she doesn’t end up Queen, you’d be a fool to expect Reginald to maintain control of power in the humans’ country.”

Mouse tipped his head in acknowledgement. “It would be as if my elder brother somehow snatched the throne. Someone else would end up the power behind it.”

Dayander pointed with the comb. “Exactly.”

“And you think that would be Sabelyn?”

“You’ve dealt with her more than I. You tell me.”

Mouse chuckled. “Fair enough.”