Coulta woke with a groan to a heavy ache in his shoulder.

"I'm just surprised it hasn't been bleeding more," a woman was saying.

"Probably has something to do with whatever the Second King was doing to him," someone else said, and he recognized her voice.

"No, he has no power for healing. All he can do is sustain a person, and deal with poisons, of course."

Someone prodded the sore spot on his shoulder and he winced. "That hurts," he complained hoarsely, finally managing to turn his head to the two women looming over him.

"I'm sure it does," Myri agreed, though she gave him a smile. "At least you're alive to feel the pain."

"Put more salve on it and bind it again," the older woman instructed. "I'll leave him to your care, since you know him already."

Myri nodded. "Should I start giving him tea now that he's awake?"

"Yes, make sure he gets it for the rest of the day. I'd say he'll be able to go the night on his own, though."

Memories of the day before slowly started to return as he watched Myri work, trying not to think of the pain. At least he could tell that Wildas was safe now. The curse was good for something. "How's Wildas?"

"If he wasn't the Crown Prince I'd lock him up somewhere," Myri grumbled. "He's worse than a worried mother. Unhurt, though. Just damned impatient to know how you're recovering."

"Why?" Coulta asked. It wasn't like his life truly mattered, all things considered.

Myri gave him a look that suggested she thought he was an idiot. "If it wasn't for Shelton you would have died out there, protecting him."

"I take it I was shot?"

"By a poisoned arrow," she added, wiping her hands on the apron she wore. "Shelton took the poison from you but you used so much energy trying to protect Wildas that he had to sit through the night with you, giving your body strength to survive." She picked up a wad of white linen from the table nearby. "It's a good thing he was there."

"I'll have to thank him," Coulta said with a nod.

"You're not leaving this room for a few days," she warned, wrapping the bandage around his shoulder. "Even if I have to tie you here."

Coulta could feel that he had no energy at all, so he didn't argue. She finished with his shoulder and helped him sit with his back supported by pillows.

"I'll go brew you a healing tea," she told him. "Shelton's request, by the way. Don't blame me when you taste it."

Before he could argue, she was leaving. She had barely gotten out the door when Wildas slipped inside. The prince looked utterly relieved to see Coulta awake, and Coulta gave him a small smile.

"Gods, Coulta," Wildas whispered as he sat down on a chair beside the bed. "You almost died keeping that damn vow of yours."

Coulta would have shrugged if his shoulder didn't hurt so much. "You know I don't have a choice. I did what I could."

Wildas reached out and squeezed Coulta's hand. "Thank you."

"What happened?" Coulta asked, squeezing his hand in return. "I remember arrows and throwing protective magic at you."

"I don't really know," Wildas admitted. "Rohan took twenty men out to search the forest this morning. It's just after midday and they haven't returned yet. They're trying to figure out who the archers were and if others might be out there. Why didn't you sense them before we were leaving?"

"They weren't there before then," Coulta answered. "If they had been, I would have noticed."

Wildas sighed. "I've had enough assassins for a lifetime."

"Present company included?"

The prince gave him a stern look. "No. You're no longer in business."

Coulta shook his head. "I can't change what I am. You might not use me as an assassin now, but you do realize that if you ever told me to kill someone, I would have to."

"I wouldn't ask you to do that," Wildas assured him quietly. "I couldn't put you through that. It's bad enough you keep getting injured just trying to protect me from harm."

"I swore to serve you, so it doesn't matter."

"It matters to me."

Coulta shook his head and looked away, unable to stand the honesty in the prince's gaze.

Wildas moved to sit on the edge of the bed, and, to his credit, didn't order Coulta to look at him. Instead, he turned Coulta's chin with his hand. "You being my protector doesn't make it any easier for me to see you hurting. I just want to give you a better life than what you've had. I wish you never had to suffer, physically or otherwise."

Coulta tried to shake his head, but the prince's hold was firm. "I'll never be able to break the curse. It's going to be a part of me until I die, and it doesn't let me choose to protect myself at the same time that I protect you. If I swore to you now to try to protect myself, the two vows would conflict with each other and it would get us both killed. I can feel that. I can't make two vows to you that counter each other. If I give my life to save you somehow, then that's all there is to it."

"I don't want you to do that," Wildas replied, his voice heavy with emotion as he finally let go of Coulta's chin. "I thought I was watching you die yesterday, and it was the most terrifying thing I've ever experienced. More terrifying even than when I was attacked in Arren or when I was suffering on the way back here. I would have felt guilty for the rest of my life knowing you had died for me."

Coulta looked away. "You're the one who matters, not me."

"You think you don't matter?" Wildas demanded.

He shook his head. "I'm as important to you and this country as any common soldier is. When I die you only need to have your brother find someone else to protect you in my place."

"Damn it, Coulta, stop talking like that."

The words Coulta was about to speak started changing in his mind until he hardly knew what he had intended to say. He shot Wildas a glare. "You made me swear to be honest with you. I'm trying to be. I don't know how to make you see the truth using more positive words than that."

Wildas shook his head. "But you're wrong, Coulta."

"I don't feel wrong," Coulta replied quietly.

"You matter to me," Wildas said softly. "You're important to me."

Coulta just shook his head and closed his eyes. He was so tired. Maybe if he kept his eyes closed, Wildas would leave him to himself. This conversation was too much for him.

But, instead of leaving, Wildas leaned closer to Coulta and pressed a brief, firm kiss to his lips.

Coulta opened his eyes and stared at Wildas, who stared back at him with an unsure expression. When Coulta didn't do anything to object, Wildas leaned in again. It was almost terrifying for Coulta to realize that he truly wanted this, whatever it was that was happening, so he chose not to think about it. He closed his eyes once more, trying his best to return the kiss. Wildas had probably never kissed someone so bad at it before, and he'd likely think better of his actions as soon as he realized that Coulta had no idea what he was doing.

Wildas did pull away after only moments and Coulta braced for some negative comment, but there was only concern in the prince's hazel eyes. "Is this you or the vow to serve me?" Wildas asked. "I won't take advantage of you."

"I don't think it's the curse," Coulta replied quietly.

"How do we know?"

Coulta thought a moment, then told him, "Kiss me again."

Wildas gave him a small smile before leaning close again.

Coulta turned his head away and brought the hand of his uninjured arm to the prince's chest, pushing him away. He turned his head again to look at Wildas, who had a curious expression on his face.

"If it was the curse, I wouldn't be able to push you away even briefly," Coulta explained.

"That's proof enough for me," Wildas told him with a nod.

Coulta moved his hand to the back of the prince's head and pulled him in again. He felt one hand cup the back of his neck and another rest on his side. He was thankful that Wildas didn't care about how clumsy he was; he didn't know kissing could be so enjoyable.

"That will be quite enough of that," came a stern voice from beside them.

They broke away to find Myri glaring at them, one hand on her hip and the other hand holding a steaming cup wrapped in a cloth. She continued glaring at them until she finally pointed to the door and turned her focus purely to Wildas.

"Go tell people that he's awake," she commanded. "And don't tell me I can't order you around. You are hindering my patient's healing process. Go."

Wildas sighed and gave Coulta one more smile before doing as Myri commanded. Then she turned to Coulta.

"Drink this," she told him. "If you want to spend any time alone with him, you'd best get your strength back first. I won't be putting twice the effort into you again if you decide to have a merry romp with him before you're healed. Consider that a warning." She handed Coulta the tea and walked toward the door.

"Thank you," Coulta called after her.

"Don't thank me yet," she replied. "Drink all of that."

Coulta sniffed the tea and grimaced. The taste wasn't much better, either. The tea was stronger than the one she had made him after he'd spent the night in the dungeon. He almost choked but forced it down as quickly as he could, ignoring the heat.

He didn't need the healer being even more annoyed with him.

Wildas was surprised to find Shelton in his office with Deandre. The Second King looked exhausted still, but he was wearing his usual sorcerer robes instead of the riding clothes he'd been wearing all night. He was fiddling with a violet stone on a chain around his neck, which was something Wildas was familiar with.

"They haven't reported any problems yet," Shelton explained.

"I don't like that this happened only the day after the incident at the ball," Deandre sighed, leaning back in his chair. "How long were those attackers waiting in the trees to ambush all of you?"

Wildas sat down in another chair across from his father. "Coulta says they weren't there the whole time we were out there. He said he would have sensed them sooner if they had been."

"He's awake?" Shelton asked.

Wildas nodded. "Myri said I was in the way and I thought I should tell you he was awake, anyway."

"I'm glad he's recovering," Shelton replied, fighting a yawn. "Did he say anything else to you?"

Wildas found it rather difficult to remember the start of their conversation. "Only that he was sure they weren't there earlier, and that he didn't have a choice about the magic he used."

"I thought as much. His vow of service has no clause for self-preservation, does it?"

Wildas shook his head. "He said it wouldn't be possible to make a new vow to ensure that he protected himself, even if I demanded it. It would conflict too much with the vow to protect me."

"I'm not as familiar with this curse as I'm sure the two of you are," Deandre commented, "but would there be any way to release him from the previous vow and create a new one?"

"It's doubtful," Shelton answered, dashing Wildas's momentary hope. "The sorcerer who placed the curse would not have wanted something so lenient when his goal was to punish Coulta's father by forcing him to regret his own broken promise on a daily basis. Coulta's first vow to serve was only to bring Wildas safely here, and that ended once they arrived. This new vow has no frame of time." He glanced at Wildas. "Am I correct?"

Wildas nodded.

"So, it can't be ended at any time?" Deandre questioned, rubbing his beard thoughtfully.

"The vow will only be fulfilled if the curse is ever broken, or when one of them dies."

"What if he meets someone who has more influence over him than I do?" Wildas asked, trying not to worry about that possibility. "I took him from Varin, couldn't someone take him from me?"

Shelton gave him a strange look. "That would be possible, except there is no one with more influence over him. There never will be."

"How do you know that?" Wildas demanded.

The Second King sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Asema was able to give more insight into the curse. It's something he needs to explain to you himself. When he's ready, he'll tell you everything he learned from her, I'm sure. Don't force him to tell you, either."

"Why would I force him to tell me?"

"He didn't promise to be honest with you?"

"Yes... How did you know that?"

Shelton shrugged. "It seemed like something you would want him to do."

"It seems you're stuck with him," Deandre commented. "He's earning his keep so far, and I must say I'm glad he's around."

Wildas could only hope that his father truly meant that. "So am I."

Deandre stood with a sigh. "I should go report the lack of news to Yvona. I know she's frustrated not to be out there with them."

"Give her my love," Shelton replied. When Wildas started to get up, the Second King pointed at him and ordered, "Stay here."

Wildas sat back in his chair, concerned by Shelton's expression. Shelton didn't speak again until Deandre was away from the room, which made Wildas even more uncomfortable.

"Myri said you were in the way?" Shelton asked conversationally.

"Essentially," Wildas replied, giving the Second King a confused look.

"Why's that?"

"Uh... because I suppose I was."

Shelton toyed with the violet pendent around his neck, but looked directly at Wildas. "You finally confessed your love for him?"

Wildas could only gape at Shelton, at a complete loss about how to process the question.

"I'm sure it's obvious to a lot of people," Shelton commented, giving him a tired smile. "You practically wore a trench outside his door yesterday."

"He saved my life," Wildas tried to argue. "And he's my friend."

Shelton raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you denying it?"

He felt like his head was spinning as he tried to grasp the conversation. He had spoken to Shelton about a lot of things as he'd gotten older, but nothing remotely related to love or even sex.

"No," he finally admitted.

"I told you he has things to tell you," Shelton said with a sigh. "Don't push him. I'm sure you realize that he hasn't exactly had the sort of easy life you have."

Wildas almost argued that his life wasn't exactly easy, but he knew Shelton was right. Learning to rule a country wasn't easy, but aside from that everything in his life seemed to be. He'd never had to kill anyone before. He wasn't forced to obey every command given to him by a curse he had done nothing to deserve.

"I know," he said quietly.

"Then you know to take care in how you word everything you say to him. It would be too easy to take advantage of him if you don't."

"I know," Wildas repeated. "That's the last thing I want to do."