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Cherri jolted awake silently, gripping the blankets so hard her knuckles turned white. She didn’t think about the blood and bodies in the streets, or her fathers resigned face smiling sadly down at her. Apo stood leaned in the doorway of the half ruined house they’d picked out for themselves, gripping her weapon tight as she stared out into the night. She didn’t seem to notice Cherri’s waking, too absorbed in checking for threats as always, even when there was clearly nothing there.
Now that she looked, Cherri could see the exhaustion in the way they held themself, the slope of their shoulders reminiscent of her fathers slumped posture after long hours of council meetings and civic hearings. Cherri knew Apo must sleep less than she did. She’d never seen the knight resting while she was awake, so it couldn’t be more than a few hours a night. Cherri wished they would loosen up at least a little. If Cherri could just learn to fight, Apo might not have to be so uptight and paranoid all the time. But unfortunately that was looking to be just about impossible when she kept trying to stab every other mage they came across. It was so frustrating! How was she supposed to learn magic if she couldn’t get close to anyone who could teach her?
Cherri laid back and stared at her hands. They were cold and dim, not a single spark or burst of heat to be found. Her entire kingdom was doomed, wasn’t it? She would figure it out. She would get stronger. Everything would be fine. It had to be.
— — — —
There was no other way to put it, Apo was exhausted. She’d endured sleepless nights before, sure, but usually no more than one in a row, and never more than two. But since they’d left their ruined kingdom four days ago, Apo had hardly stopped paddling for more than a few seconds. Her arms burned, and her whole body felt unsteady, like she might topple over in a gust of wind. But she couldn’t let it show. She had to be strong for her lady, for Soluna. Even if said lady was making it really difficult.
Princess Cherri had no idea how the real world worked. She was naive and reckless, and it sometimes took all of Apo’s willpower not to just scream in frustration at how impossible this all felt. How was she supposed to keep the princess alive when she was constantly running away and seemingly doing everything Apo told her not to do? It was like trying to look after a child!
Anyone could be a threat, any wrong decision could spell the end; not just for her or her princess, but for the future of Soluna too. Even now, after they’d finally settled down for the night in the mostly intact house they’d picked out for themselves, Apo’s hands gripped her halberd with white knuckles as she stood guard. She needed to clean her armor, she’d been wearing it for far too long, but she couldn’t leave herself vulnerable to attack with potential enemies everywhere.
The princess was asleep, curled into herself with the blanket tangled around her. She was quiet and still, a welcome difference from her waking self.
Apo immediately felt guilty for thinking it. She didn’t want to resent her lady for their actions, but her lack of self preservation was absolutely maddening! Why couldn’t the princess take anything seriously? Apo was trying so hard to keep her alive, and she just kept running away! Apo buried her face in her hands with a frustrated groan. God, she was so tired, but she couldn’t rest yet. If the princess wouldn’t take their situation seriously, Apo would just have to be serious enough for both of them. She kept her eyes open, even as her body cried out for rest. She would be strong. She would be the one to get them both through this. She had to be.