Eiravyne closed her eyes again.
For a long time, neither she nor Karl spoke.
Her breathing remained shallow, uneven, as though even drawing breath demanded more strength than she possessed.
When her eyelids finally fluttered open, they were unfocused, dull with exhaustion.
Her lips parted.
"I…" she whispered, the word barely audible.
Karl leaned in instinctively.
"…want…"
Another pause.
"…Urag."
The name hung in the room.
Karl stared at her in disbelief. His shoulders sagged before frustration finally escaped him in a tired exhale.
"…Ilomina was right," he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. "You can't be serious."
He looked at her again, incredulous.
"After everything that's happened… after what you've been through…" His jaw tightened. "The first thing you say is that you want my brother?"
He let out a short, bitter laugh devoid of humor.
"You're lying here barely conscious, and you're still calling for that bastard."
His voice rose despite himself.
