“I want my mother,” Aiwin rasped, weakly shoving your hand away from his forehead. His bottom lip trembled as he attempted to sit upright. “Why isn’t she here? I told you to get her for me.”

Normally he’d throw himself to the ground and cry until he got what he wanted, but he didn’t feel like doing that now. He was too hot and dizzy, rubbing at his red face with the back of his hands. Aiwin wasn’t pretending to be sick this time. Last time Mother became cross with him for it, telling him a king should not act that way. But Aiwin wasn’t king yet! Papa was king, and Papa wasn’t allowed around sick people either. Mother said Papa had a weak heart. Aiwin didn’t understand how. Papa was always picking him and throw him in the air and letting Aiwin climb on his back. Mother always lectured Papa after, but Papa would give him a secret smile.

Papa was sick because of him again. He wasn’t supposed to see Aiwin until he got better, but Aiwin had begged for his parents until one of the servants tending to him fetched his papa. He kept going behind Mother’s back to visit him, sneaking Aiwin the lemon biscuits he liked. Then he was told King Hilas had fallen ill and could no longer play with him. Mother found out about what Papa was doing and became upset again. Aiwin thought his mother was always upset at one or both of them.

“Please,” he tried. “Please I just want to see my mother. She can see me for a moment.” He shouldn’t cry. A future king did not shed tears, but Aiwin did not fully understand what that meant. His stomach hurt and his head was hot and he wanted his mama. He swallowed a sob, tears slipping down his cheeks. His chambers were dark and too big. He hated this bed, but Mother had forbidden him from sleeping in their bed anymore. Sometimes Papa would rub his back until he fell asleep.

“Papa,” Aiwin cried, shoving the bowl of water beside his bed to the floor. He just wanted to feel better. He wanted to see his parents and he wanted to go back to studying. Mother kept telling him a child of four winters did not act like this.

He should listen.

“Get Mama!” You were the only servant currently in the room, but he knew that if he threw a fit loud enough more would come. One of them would give in eventually, either because they pitied him or because they didn’t want to hear his crying. Once a servant had swatted his hand for breaking his wooden horse. Mother made that servant go away.

Aiwin kicked his legs around, but even that exhausted him. He rolled onto his side, rubbing his face to hide his tears. “I miss my mama.”