Page 122 of A Soul’s Awakening

“It’s alright, Len,” Lance reassured her from the armchair near the bed. He had lit the oil lamp above him and was intensely focused on the clothing in his hands, working a needle and thread through the material with his large fingers. “El is in the bathroom, bathing and getting dressed. She informed me several times how hungry she is, so be ready for that when she comes out.”

Helena’s stomach dropped. “I don’t have anything for her to wear,” she said, pushing her hair back from her face. She hissed through her teeth as she accidentally brushed the cut on her forehead. She then gently rubbed the nick on her neck, the skin red and tender.

“Don’t worry. While you were sleeping, I took all our clothes to Beth’s laundryman to wash, and I asked if he had any spare clothing. I gave him a couple of Sels and he gave me a bundle. Hopefully there is something in there that will fit her,” Lance explained. He held up the material he was stitching and squinted at it in the lamplight. “That looks pretty good.” He nodded, looking pleased with himself.

“Are those…?” Helena’s sore eyes peered across the quickly darkening room. “Did you just mend my riding leggings? And they’re… clean?”

“Why do you sound so shocked?” He chuckled. “The laundryman washed these and your blouse, but I do usually do the laundry when I am home. You know… water, magic. It’s easier for me to do than it is for you and Rose.”

“I know, but I didn’t know you could sew,” she retorted, her voice playful.

The High Prince shrugged. “Honestly? Neither did I. This needle and thread were part of the small repair kit the Habetrot had included with our clothes. I can’t smell whether she enchanted it, but maybe it’s her magic helping me with the work. I already did your blouse.” He nodded his head towards the neatly folded white material on the side table next to him.

Helena practically leapt off the bed in surprise when Eleanor slammed through the bathroom door.

Her head snapped to her mother. “I’m starving,” she declared.

“Well, hello to you, too,” Helena responded.

Eleanor wore a baggy pair of brown trousers that she had rolled up at the ankles and a loose, beige button-down shirt. She had even managed to find a pair of slightly-too-big leather lace-up shoes.

“Did you say thank you to Lance?” Helena asked. “He got you the clothes while I was sleeping.”

Eleanor turned to the Merman. “Thank you.” Then back to her mother. “Can we get dinner now, please?”

Lance stood, folding Helena’s leggings neatly and placing them on top of the white blouse on the side table. “Not yet. I need to heal your mother first.”

She smiled up at him. He had also washed and changed. The High Prince had tamed his loose, long ringlets with the comb and worked out the tangled mess. He wore his own change of clothes from the Habetrot. His breeches were navy blue, and his shirt a dark grey tunic. The hems of his clothing were all embroidered with green thread, a pattern of sea stars dancing around the edges. Lance looked much better after rehydration and some sleep, though his eyes still looked tired, and large purple marks circled under them.

“I’m alright, Lance,” Helena reassured. “You’re not well yourself.”

“Len,” the Merman countered, taking a step towards her. “If you won’t do it for yourself, then do it for me. I don’t like seeing you hurt, especially when I can help.”

Eleanor huffed and tapped her foot. “Mum, just let him. I want to eat.”

Helena shot her daughter a withering look but acquiesced to Lance’s palms. He pressed one to her neck and another to her forehead. A cooling, blue glow poured from the High Prince’s hands and into her wounds.

Lance’s trembling hands did not escape Helena’s notice. He’s not well. Her eyes tracked a bead of sweat running down the bow of his cheek and how the glow from his palm faltered. How much magic does he have left?

His power delved beneath her skin and sealed together the cuts. Helena felt the flush of relief as the aches dissipated. Lance then moved to her knuckles, spreading his thumb over them and healing the splits in the skin she had gotten from punching one too many Fae in the face.

After her mother asked to sit at table four, Eleanor found herself nestled into a small alcove of Bright Sun Inn. The four-seater table neatly fit in the space. It was well-situated so that they could see the bar but were seated apart from the other dining customers.

Eleanor felt her mouth water. It smells so good… Her stomach grumbled. It reminds me of Aunty Rose’s cooking.

As they waited for their food and drink, Eleanor rested her head on her mother’s strong shoulder. Helena returned the gesture and placed her temple on her daughter’s hair. Lance wandered over from the bar. He had brought back a basket of bread and small dish of butter, placing them on the table in front of Eleanor.

“So you don’t waste away,” the High Prince teased.

The Changeling stuck her tongue out at him before grabbing a slice and buttering it. It was hot and fresh, the spread of butter instantly melting into the fluffy bread. She watched as Helena gave a small wave to the broad, blue-haired faerie behind the bar. She beamed back at the trio. The faerie looked delighted as she waved back with enthusiasm before turning to the next customer.

“Thanks, Lance,” Eleanor said around a mouthful of hot bread. “Who’s that?” she asked, swallowing.

“Beth. She’s a Blue Cap and the owner,” Helena replied. “She’s the one who put us in contact with Declan. He’s the one who helped us get into Tithe Manor.” A grimace passed over her face. “Even if it didn’t go as planned. Declan is coming to meet us.”

“Why?” Eleanor asked, before helping herself to another slice.

She was starving, as though her body was catching up with all the food it had missed out on.