Kethaias wasn’t aware of the excitement after he passed out, nor was it the first thing that ran through his fuzzy mind as he began to wake.  First was the vague and tedious acknowledgement that he was indeed alive, and second that he was not alone.  Bleary eyed, he looked toward the light in the room, finding the breathtaking sight of Ryland, sun gleaming through his hair to halo his head like some divine, golden thing from the heavens.<br/><br/>That brief moment of blissful quiet crashed to an end when the prince spoke and moved.  The thud of the book was too loud.  The way Ryland’s voice poured out was too thick, less like sweet syrup and more like hot tar.  Keth grimaced and reached up to rub his eyes.<br/><br/><i>Can’t even let a man die in peace, can he?</i><br/><br/>The thought both amused and annoyed him.<br/><br/><i>Hungry?</i>He grunted and shook his head.  Yes, his stomach was empty, but Kethaias was in no rush to fill it before he knew what his constitution was.  Thirst was harder to ignore.  He swore he’d crossed vast deserts that weren’t as dry as his mouth was right then.<br/><br/>“Water,” he requested.  Then, perhaps a little too soon, he struggled to push himself up.<br/><br/>Had he been safe at home, then he’d have wanted to take things slower.  This was foreign soil, and even though they had previously worked out a treaty, showing up with soldiers ready to fight could have done irreparable damage to the already fragile relationship between him and Banque and himself.  How he wasn’t dead or in shackles was a miracle.  It likely had something to do with the young king wanting to play his best hand.  A dead enemy wasn’t as fanciful as a betrothed ally.  Aside from that, Gharreld was likely to rejoice at being able to send his little brother far, far away.<br/><br/>If he’d been strict with Ryland, it was likely that he’d been tortured in return.<br/><br/>Kethaias turned his eyes to the blond again and noticed the sparkle of the ear cuff.  Then his attention trailed down to a different set of clothes than what he’d remembered from before.  He had to wonder how long he was out.  A full day?  More?  Zephryn was going to be heartbroken.<br/><br/>“I do need Rijek.  I need him to arrange sending word back to someone so they don’t worry,” he admitted, voice low and rough from his long sleep.  It was clear his mind was nowhere near the political drama there in Banque or marriage.  It was easier to think of home, or even war.  “Has information come from the frontlines?”