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“It’s infuriating,” Robin said, her voice low as she lay still, her head swimming. “I don’t want to let them see that. But I’ll be honest with you. I owe you that.”
Frederick’s hand tightened over hers.
“...I don’t think you owe me anything.” Frederick paused briefly before continuing. “But I appreciate your honesty, Robin.”
Of course he did. He knew all the times she’d been forced to hide things from him before. She’d hid the thing in her mind from him till the very end. He’d forgiven her for that, somehow.
This, so mundane, so mortal, still present even now after she’d returned to this life, alone in her own mind, was a thing she would not hide from him. Not any longer, at least. Not in this second chance at life.
“I’d hoped...” Robin began, trailing briefly off. “That it was just Grima. That it was because of the thing in my head.”
She laughed, shifting against the pillow behind her.
“But it’s just my luck, isn’t it?”
“Don’t say such things,” Frederick said, his voice quiet. “I’m sure there’s something we can do.” His voice strengthened. He spoke more clearly as he continued. Robin could tell he’d taken purpose from her words. “You ought to eat better, Robin. And sleep better.”
“I suppose you’ll leave me with no choice in the matter.”
“I will not,” Frederick said, his voice firm. “It was one thing when we were on the road. We were all exhausted—all of us pushed to our limits—but this is peacetime, Robin.”
“If it lasts,” Robin countered.
“If it lasts,” Frederick agreed. “I’ll see you well. I’ll speak with Lissa within the hour. We’ll make a plan. You’ll be better soon enough, Robin.”
“Such cruelty, Frederick,” Robin teased, her tired voice as light as she could make it. “The two of you? Working together?”
“I will see you well,” Frederick said, repeating the words with a fervency that Robin wished she could feel.
“I hope you do,” she agreed. Again, she kept her voice light.
She closed her eyes.
“...You doubt I will be able to help.” The hurt in Frederick’s voice was clear.
Robin remained silent. She felt unable to adequately defend her view to him now. It was difficult to focus with her head like this. He would not allow her to tell him how long she’d felt this thing, how often it had plagued her in secret.
“Robin, you’ve never been half as doomed as you think you are,” he pressed on. “This will not be the end of you. You’ll see it.”
“I hope you’re right, Frederick. I really do.”