Nevara
Thoren absolutely did not take me back to our room calmly.
No.
He escorted me upstairs like I was one strong gust of wind away from immediate death.
One hand stayed firmly planted against my lower back the entire walk while the other hovered suspiciously close to my arm like he expected me to suddenly collapse again despite the fact that I was currently walking perfectly fine under my own power.
Honestly, it was beginning to feel a little insulting.
Every servant we passed visibly noticed it too.
Not that anyone said anything, of course. Nobody in the castle was stupid enough to question the king while he was trapped in full protective-mate panic mode.
But I still caught the looks.
The careful glances.
The way everyone instinctively moved out of our path faster than usual
