CHAPTER 29: HORNET’S NEST

Before Kealith could reply, the door opened and the attending physician walked in with a nurse at his side, clipboard in hand.

"Sir Kealith," the doctor said with a professional smile, "it’s good to see you awake. We’ll begin passive physiotherapy today to help restore muscle function and circulation. It’s light, nothing strenuous—you’ll need to relax and let us handle the movement for now."

Seliora adjusted the blanket around her son and stepped aside, her gaze softening as she watched. Darius moved closer to stand beside her.

The nurse first checked the IV line, noting the near-empty bag. She unclipped it, removed the tape, and slid the needle free from Kealith’s wrist. He barely flinched, only flexing his hand afterward to ease the stiffness. A small square of gauze was taped down in its place.

"Hydration has been restored," the physician explained. "For now, we’ll maintain fluids through oral intake if he tolerates it well. I’ll have broth brought in once this session concludes."

"Good," Seliora murmured, adjusting the pillow behind Kealith’s back.

The nurse rolled in a slim cart bearing padded supports and elastic bands. She positioned herself at Kealith’s side, her voice calm, professional. "Sir Kealith, this is just passive physiotherapy—meaning I’ll move your limbs for you. You don’t need to exert yourself. The goal is to stimulate circulation and prevent stiffness."

Kealith gave a short nod. "Understood."

They began with his arms. The nurse gently lifted his right arm, rotating it slowly in the shoulder joint, then flexing and extending the elbow. Kealith’s breathing remained even, though his brow creased faintly with each careful stretch. Seliora, standing close, noticed and instinctively placed a hand against his other arm, her touch grounding.

"Pain?" the doctor asked.

"No," Kealith replied, his tone low but firm.

They repeated the motions with the other arm, then moved to his legs. The nurse guided each limb, bending his knees, rotating the joints, stretching them until the tendons loosened. There was resistance at first—a stiffness from days of immobility—but slowly the rigidity eased.

Throughout the process, the steady beeping of the monitor remained unchanged. Seliora and Darius stood watch.

At last, the nurse lowered his legs and pulled the blanket back over them. "That’s all for today. Just ten minutes, enough to wake the muscles. We’ll repeat this twice daily until he regains more strength. Tomorrow, if he tolerates it, we’ll help him sit in a chair for brief periods."

The physician made a final note on the chart, then looked up. "In the meantime, we’ll begin testing his tolerance for food. Broth will be best tonight—light, nourishing, and easy to digest. If he manages without nausea, we can progress to other liquids tomorrow."

Kealith inclined his head in acknowledgment, though his lips curved faintly in something that might have been impatience.

Seliora brushed his hair back from his forehead. "Don’t scowl. You’ll take what they give you."

Darius chuckled softly beside her, hands in his pockets. "Listen to your mother. You’re not bargaining at the boardroom table now."

For the first time since waking, a ghost of a smile tugged at Kealith’s lips. "Fine. Broth it is."

The nurse excused herself to arrange the tray. The room quieted again, heavy with the soft, rhythmic sound of the monitor and the low hum of the air vents. Seliora allowed herself a single exhale, tension leaving her shoulders, the smile on her lips never leaving throughout the night, even as she watched Kealith drink the nourishing broth.

~•~

Meanwhile, over on Erisia’s side, it was close to midnight and she still hadn’t fallen asleep. Rita had already been in bed for an hour, fast asleep, while Erisia continued scrolling through her phone, checking almost every post she could find about the incident.

When she grew bored of that, she stepped out onto the balcony. Beside her were the potted plants and vegetables Rita had grown into a little mini garden. Closed off in that small space, it looked surprisingly cute. Erisia spent the first fifteen minutes simply walking through it, looking around, and taking it all in.

Eventually, she leaned forward against the balcony rail, staring up at the sky. It reminded her of all those sleepless nights in her last life when she used to slide open the glass door of her room, step outside, and smoke alone on her balcony looking over the vast compound of her villa. The craving crept back now, sudden and sharp, but she pushed it away—she’d left that habit behind long before she died.

Instead, she went back inside, dug through the things they’d bought earlier, and pulled out a lollipop. After unwrapping it, she popped it into her mouth and wandered back out to the balcony, phone in hand.

Her thoughts drifted to the mission, and she called out to the Echo System in her mind.

’Hey, what do you think would happen if I called Sierra and told her that I knew she was behind everything?’

[Nothing will change because everything that will determine the outcome has happened. And even if Sierra finds out that you know she’s behind everything, it won’t matter. She won’t tell Adrian—because admitting she knows means admitting she’s aware he hired someone to kill you. And that would expose her; she’d rather act clueless than risk her mother or brother noticing anything amiss.]

’Hmm. I see. I’m starting to like your logical explanations.’ Erisia tilted her head, sucking lightly on the lollipop as though savoring both the candy and the thought. ’Well then, let me give my stupid parents’ adopted daughter a call.’

She swiped back to her contacts, and sure enough, the name sat there—Sierra. Her lips curved into a wry smile.

With a tap, the call began to ring.

The phone buzzed once... twice...

Erisia leaned against the railing again, phone pressed to her ear, lollipop stick jutting out like a cigarette replacement. She wasn’t nervous. She wasn’t even curious about Sierra’s reaction. This was just something to pass the time, like poking a hornet’s nest just to see if the hornets were still alive.

By the fourth ring, she thought Sierra might actually be asleep after all—until the line clicked.

A groggy but sharp-edged voice came through. "...Hello? Who is this?"

Erisia grinned, tilting her head back to look at the midnight sky. "What, don’t tell me you don’t recognize the voice of your dear sister?"