Lucian blinked, then struggled upright, ignoring the dizziness that clouded his sight. "You—" His voice broke. He swallowed, tried again. "You saved me."
Rei inclined his head once, the motion precise, impersonal. "You fainted."
Lucian let out a half-breath that trembled between laughter and disbelief. His hand lifted to his chest again, as if confirming he had not dreamt the memory of death's whistle. "The arrow," he murmured. "I heard it—then nothing."
"You were lucky," Rei replied, tone even.
Lucian's gaze fell on the bandage coiled around Rei's arm. Blood had soaked faintly through the fabric. His expression flickered. "You're injured."
"It's nothing."
The door opened then, letting in the chill of the corridor. Sebastine entered, the movement of his cloak scattering the lamplight. He stopped at the foot of the bed, gaze sweeping over Lucian before settling briefly on Rei.
"You're awake," he said, the words flat, factual.
