Page 49 of Dark Princess: Shadows

Before he could finish the sentence, Ell-rom stepped forward and wrapped his arms around him in a fierce embrace, a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob escaping the prince's throat.

"Thank the Mother of All Life, and thank you," he half sobbed, half whispered. "You brought her back to me."

Getting over the initial awkwardness, Brandon returned the hug just as tightly and clapped Ell-rom on his back. They were virtual strangers, but they were bound by their care for Morelle.

"I just talked," Brandon said, his voice thick with emotion. "Morelle is a fighter. She found her own way back."

Ell-rom pulled back just enough to look at him, his eyes bright with unshed tears. "She was revived from stasis weeks ago, and there was no change in her condition until you started your vigil and refused to leave her side." He chuckled. "I think that your instant infatuation with my sister is a little odd, but I welcome it. Perhaps the Mother of All Life used you as a tool to revive my sister."

Brandon nodded even though he did not believe in the Kra-ell's harsh deity, and he didn't like being called a tool, but he wasn't going to get upset about something an emotional alien prince had said. Perhaps his meaning had been lost in translation.

"Maybe it was the Fates," Ell-rom added. "They must have known that my sister needed a storyteller to help her find her way back to the world of the living."

As the door to Morelle's room opened and Gertrude stepped out, he and Ell-rom turned to her expectantly, still half-embracing.

"She's doing remarkably well," the nurse said, smiling at their emotional display. "The doctor says that you can come back in now." She glanced at Ell-rom. "I'll pretend that Bridget meant that both of you can come in. Just remember that Morelle is still very weak and confused. Don't overwhelm her."

Brandon and Ell-rom exchanged glances, sharing a moment before stepping apart. They were both aware of the shift between them. No longer just mere acquaintances, they had become entangled by their feelings for Morelle.

32

ELL-ROM

As Ell-rom entered Morelle's room, his heart nearly stopped when his sister's eyes found his. His other half was finally awake and looking at him with recognition and love.

Tears slid down her cheeks in twin rivulets.

He rushed to her bedside, gathering her in his arms carefully, mindful of the tubes and wires still attached to her. "Morelle," he whispered, his voice breaking with emotion. "You came back to me." He pressed his cheek to hers, his own tears mingling with hers.

He was vaguely aware of Brandon, Bridget, and Gertrude quietly leaving the room, giving them privacy for this reunion.

"Morelle, Morelle, Morelle," he kept whispering her name like a prayer, holding her close, overwhelmed by the reality of having her truly present and aware in his arms.

When he realized that she wasn't moving, he loosened his hold and lowered her head back to the thin pillow.

"Was I squeezing you too tightly?"

He hoped for a smile, but all he got was a double blink of her eyes, and somehow, he knew it was her way of saying no.

Was it a memory?

Had they developed a language of silent communications?

She was looking up at him, and as another tear slid down her cheek, she lifted her hand shakily toward his head but then dropped it back down.

Understanding what she wanted, he took her hand, leaned down, and helped guide it to his mostly bald scalp, where only a light fuzz of new growth had started to appear.

The question in her eyes was clear, and he managed a small laugh through the mist in his eyes. "The stasis chambers malfunctioned, and the only thing that kept us alive was our godly genes that allowed us to enter unaided stasis. We were found completely emaciated, with only clumps of long strands of dry, matted hair remaining. It wasn't a pretty sight, so the medics shaved off what was left." He saw her eyes drift upward, clearly wondering about her own head. "Yes, yours too. The trauma to our bodies must have slowed down the growth because I should have more by now, but it will come."

Gently, he guided her hand to her own scalp, letting her feel the similar fuzzy growth there. Her fingers moved slowly over the unfamiliar texture, and another tear slipped down her cheek.

"It's okay," he assured her. "Our bodies were too busy rebuilding our organs and muscles to worry about something as trivial as hair. Julian, one of the medics, explained that our bodies were prioritizing the most important repairs." He smiled at her. "Ipromise that it will all grow back, just as full and beautiful as I remember it." He paused. "I have to admit that I don't remember much of our lives on Anumati. My memories were lost during the long stasis." He cupped her cheek. "I hope you've retained your memories and can help me understand who I was, who we both were as people."

Morelle blinked once, deliberately, and somehow, he knew this was her way of saying yes. Relief flooded through him. At least one of them remembered their shared history.

"Why aren't you speaking?" he asked gently. "Is it too difficult?"

One blinks. Yes, then. It was too difficult for her to speak.