The Right to Die | ✓ Amby Winner 2023

17. The Rot

When M'yu woke up, the sun had already gone down, the lights of the neighboring houses shining brightly through the windows. One light shone across his face, and he raised his hand, blocking it off. He looked around, trying to figure out how long he'd slept for. 

Aevryn! He was supposed to have met him for dinner. He stumbled to his feet and raced out of the library, terrified of how late he might be.

His head pounded as he ran, and he paused at the double doors outside the dining hall to catch his breath. His vision swam, and he blinked it into focus. Control, he demanded. Despite waking, though, he still felt half-asleep, like he could be a character in one of the vivid dreams he'd just had.

Drawing a deep breath, he pushed into the room.

It was dark, though, the electric candles that usually set the place to flickering turned off, the hearth dead. He blinked hard, then grabbed hold of the wall as he swayed.

"Master Mykta," one of the maids called behind him. He turned in the doorway, still trying to clear the haze from his vision. "You're awake. I'll go get the prince. Oh, here." She bustled into the dining room, flicking candles on and moving to tend to the fire.

"You don't have to light that," M'yu muttered, slowly taking his seat at the table.

"What was that, sir?"

"It's warm enough." He nodded his chin at the unlit fireplace, and his head swam. He closed his eyes.

She titled her head. "This room has been closed off for hours, sir. Are you sure you don't want...?" She stared at him, brow drawn.

"It's fine," he said, tongue thick. The pain in his cheek radiated hot all across his face, down through his neck and shoulders. It spiked as he talked, and he clamped his mouth shut.

"Al-right then." She stood, wiping her hands on her apron. "I'll just go get Prince Aevryn." The door thudded closed, and M'yu leaned his head back on the chair. Control, he demanded. Aevryn didn't need to know that he hadn't been sleeping well. Or what exactly he'd done not to sleep. They had more important things to discuss.

A giggle sounded from the corner. "You don't look too good."

M'yu turned his head, blurry vision coalescing into an image of Aevryn's daughter. "I didn't see you there."

"I know," she whispered, putting a finger to her lips. "I was hiding."

"You kinda gave yourself away," M'yu muttered, cheek pinging and tingling like needles.

She slipped out of the shadows and across the room. She shrugged, putting her hand on the door. "You can only hide for so long, after all." And then she disappeared too.

Maids came to set the table, laying a cold plate of sandwiches in front of him and a glass of water. As they left, M'yu fumbled for the glass, fingers slipping past its rim and into the cool liquid. Drawing his hand out, he sprayed himself in the face, patted down his forehead and good cheek. The cold woke him up just a bit, and he forced himself to sit straighter. Control.

The door opened, and M'yu squared his shoulders. "Apologies for being late."

"Muttering is a bad habit," Aevryn said softly as he took the seat at the table's head. "And so is apologizing for things that aren't your fault. I let you sleep that long. It seemed like you could use the rest." Aevryn spread his napkin out on his lap, then looked over to the fire. "That's strange."

"What is?"

Aevryn stopped reaching for his linkcard and looked up toward M'yu. The man drew back. "Boy, have you run half around the house? What is the matter with you?"