Chapter Text
Jeremy was dreaming again. Dreaming of a different world from the one he lived in.
In this world, the colours all seemed to shine a little brighter. As if the colours existed in him, and not around him. In this world, he seemed lighter, too. As if some great burden was not growing heavier on his shoulders by the day anymore. Jeremy's eyes were lighter in this world, not so weary or wretched anymore. In this world, he was not so much of a sombre older brother to his siblings. Rather, he seemed to have retained his sense of self as their older brother, instead of becoming absorbed in the mould that was the oldest of the Marquis's children and his heir.
Although, that came easily to him, compared to some other things he had to do as heir (which certainly did not involve a certain pink-haired woman).
In this world, Elias wasn't so sharp-tongued as he was mischievous. He had a certain light in his eyes, one that Jeremy remembered him having when their mother, Alice, was still alive. Even Leon and Rachel seemed strangely tamed from the version of them he knew. And yet, they looked peaceful rather than subdued. Secure.
In this dream world, they were all sitting out in the ever-familiar garden at the Marquissate. It was tea-time, and the whole family (plus a certain pink-haired woman) was sitting in the garden, talking in the midday sun, with the table full of pots of fruit tea, pots of cream, and soft cake powdered with sugar.
The pink-haired girl was laughing at something Rachel said. She always did that in these dreams. And Rachel giggled. She actually giggled. If this wasn't a dream, he didn't know what was. Then there was Leon, talking to her again. Something about a book he'd just finished. The pink-haired woman smiled at him, praising him, at which Rachel pouted at her, leaning against her arm and tugging at her. The woman laughed again. It was so strange to see her do it so naturally. He'd never seen her smile outside of these dreams. Not that he'd thought about that.
But he could see himself now. 'He' was sitting opposite the woman, his arm spread out, leaning over the chair behind him. Elias was beside him. 'He' was talking to Elias, and right at this moment Elias said something that made them both snicker. And there it was again. That look in his eyes. It was there in Jeremy's eyes, too. They were all the same, yet he could have sworn they were different people.
"Jeremy." He snapped his head toward her at the same time that dream-Jeremy did. Dream-Jeremy didn't look nearly as startled. As if that soft tone of voice was what 'he' was used to. Dream-Jeremy was another stranger, a softer version of himself he didn't recognize. He smiled at her easily, answering with a grumpy remark nonetheless, except it lacked all the bark it would have if he were not dreaming.
Shuri looked upon Elias and dream-Jeremy with a small frown. Again, it lacked all the hurt and resentment it would have when he was awake. "You boys. What did I say about the pranks? Ohera would faint if she saw you now. And Jeremy." She fixed those large, vivid green eyes on him. His breath caught. But Dream-Jeremy smiled all the wider. It came naturally to 'him', too, apparently.
He wanted to gag at the scene.
Shuri went on like she didn't see him. "I thought you, at least, would remind him, not become an accomplice." She shook her head, pink hair falling over her face.
"Come on, Mom. It's just a prank."
Right. Another thing he wasn't used to. In these dreams, his siblings called her "mom". Except 'him'. He still called her Shuri. But that was different, too.
"Yeah, Shuri. For once, he actually came up with something good. Don't you wanna see how it goes?"
Shuri shook her head again. "No, I already know how this one will go. You'll ask Nora for a spar in the training ground, and while the two of you are into it, Elias will hide something of his. His new good boots, I'm guessing. Or you'll switch out his favorite sword and make him look for it." She took a bite of the cake and sighed. "And all this just to get back at him for beating you to the chase last time."
Dream-Jeremy snorted. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Yeah, sure you don't, Brother," Rachel quipped. "I mean, just because Nora found the guy a half hour before you did doesn't mean you lost."
"Why was this a competition in the first place?" Shuri asked. "I only asked Jeremy to find out where Mr. Edan was staying." She fixed her eyes on him again. "You should have simply taken Nora's help when he said he'd heard about it from his friends."
"Wait," Leon began. "Who are we talking about? Why did you need to find this man?"
Elias said with a raised brow. "Weren't you listening? Oh, right, you were in the academy when it happened."
Rachel nodded solemnly. "Of course, you wouldn't know if you were in the academy. It was an important job, though."
Elias nodded rigorously. "Yes, very important. Crucial, even."
"What are you talking about?" Leon was getting impatient now.
Rachel started chuckling. "Shuri was looking for an artisan to have a glass vase made." When Leon narrowed his eyes in confusion, she continued, "To give as a gift to Lady Ohera."
"What's the occasion? I didn't hear anything about a party, the harvest festival was months ago already, and the foundation day is still six weeks away."
"It's for the previous Duchess's death anniversary." The reply came from Elias, who was suddenly very solemn.
"Ohera's mom?"
Elias nodded again.
"The late Duchess Heinrich... are they holding a memorial for her?"
"No. The Duke himself hasn't made any announcements." This was dream-Jeremy. The others turned to look at him, at which he raised a questioning brow.
Before he could say anything though, Shuri put her cup down on the tray with a small clang. "Since there won't be an official memorial, Ohera wants to hold a private ceremony, and she's invited us. The gift is in honour of the previous Duchess, since she was known to love flowers dearly."
"Ah.. so the Duke won't be attending then," Leon said delicately.
"No, he probably won't."
With that news, the atmosphere seemed to grow stifling, so, in a desperate and admittedly transparent attempt to lighten the mood, Shuri burst. "But don't worry! It won't be dull. We call it a ceremony, but it's more like a small tea party to remember the late Duchess. It'll be like last month's tea party."
Rachel didn't look convinced. "Are you sure you should say it like that? Wouldn't Ohera mind?"
Shuri turned to the girl. "Ohera would likely appreciate some company, especially on a day like that. It would be good if you can help her feel cheerful."
Rachel twiddled her fingers around her cup, and Shuri smiled gently. "It's good to know you're not alone in remembering someone, Rachel. She'll be happy to see us. Or at least, she won't feel as down as she would if she were by herself."
Rachel simply nodded.
Dream-Jeremy watched them, his face unreadable. Jeremy didn't know what to make of the whole interaction. Outside of these dreams, Ohera and Shuri were civil at best. Seeing her talk about Ohera in this way, or even talking to them all so naturally, sparked an emotion in him he couldn't name.
He didn't like it.
Just then, Elias choked on a bite of the cake, causing him to sputter and cough, and everyone else to panic.
"Ugh— this—" He coughed again.
Dream-Jeremy started spanking his back, and none too gently.
"Jeremy! Stop that— he can't breathe!"
"Kgh! Can't— brea—"
"Do you need water?" Rachel got up and poured him a glass without waiting for an answer.
Shuri pulled him away from dream-Jeremy, and told him to sit down and drink the water. Elias sat and gulped down the water, only to choke on that, too.
"Elias! I told you to drink slowly!"
Rachel was exasperated. "How did you manage to choke on water?!"
"Don't— I don' know!"
For some reason, this made both Rachel and Elias laugh, which made him cough even harder, turning his face almost as red as his hair.
Leon continued sipping at the tea like this was all just background music to him. Jeremy wondered at that. Was he just tired?
*
Eventually, Elias stopped coughing, and Shuri and Jeremy stared at each other in bewilderment, only to burst into laughter at the look on each other's faces.
Jeremy watched it all, unable to do anything else. He'd never, never seen her laugh like that. The sight was... it was something, but he couldn't name what. One thing he realized, now, though, was that he'd not actually looked at her in years. Not really. He'd always looked at her, yes, because he'd never been able to look away. But who could really blame him for that? Shuri was beautiful. More so than many who didn't want to admit it. Even the women who were envious of her beauty couldn't say a word to her face, so captivated was everyone by her. They called her a witch, they said she lured people into traps because she was unfeeling and cruel, but no one ever called her ugly. And to think this was when she didn't smile at all. She didn't have to. Her frown alone was enough to mesmerize the men around her. And so Jeremy couldn't stop looking, couldn't stop thinking about her. Sometimes, he wished she weren't so pretty, so he wouldn't have to lie awake at night trying to get her face out of his mind.
But he'd never looked at her the way this other Jeremy was doing. Looking into her eyes and talking to her, not just staring from the far side of the room. That was what made the difference here, he realized.
The long years since his father's death had driven a brick wall between them. He knew that, so when she finally stopped trying to get closer to them, he thought he was glad of it. Good for her, and good for them, too. Bearing open the wounds that bound them in this relationship and laying down their pride was impossible for both of them, even more so now than it was a few years ago. He wondered what, or who, made the difference here. Surely it was Shuri? But how? How could a girl barely two years older than him—
"I'm heading to bed," Leon declared, snapping Jeremy out of his misery. He only then noticed the bags under his eyes. It seemed dream-Jeremy noticed them too, because he didn't say anything to stop him, though it was only half past five in the afternoon.
"You should! I told you you didn't have to come down to tea when you just got home, Leon. You're bad with carriages, too. Rest up, okay?"
Leon smiled. "Yeah. Thanks, Mom."
"Do you want to eat dinner in your room? I'll let Anne know— "
"No, I don't think I'll get up for dinner anyway." He got down, chair screeching behind him in the grass.
"But Leon— "
"Mom, please. I need to sleep. And, if I get hungry at night, I can just get something from the kitchen. So don't worry."
"It's not good to eat so late at night..." Shuri muttered, mostly to herself, but Jeremy heard.
"Yeah, don't worry about him." Dream Jeremy stood by her as Elias and Rachel got up, too.
"Have you seen him? He's lost weight. I bet he forgets to eat at the academy half the time. What if he makes it a habit?"
"You're such a worrywart. He only looks sickly because he's just got home from being in a carriage all day. And he eats well enough at the academy, if you want to ask."
"How do you know that?" She asked, eyes large with wonder. Jeremy couldn't believe how bright they were; in all his life, he'd never seen anyone else with such vivid green eyes as she had.
To her words, dream-Jeremy went suspiciously silent.
"Jeremy..." Shuri frowned at him, and he almost seemed to shrink at her scrutiny. Jeremy thought it was ridiculous.
He started sputtering. "Because... because it's obvious! He's not a baby; he can take care of himself."
Shuri stared at him, clearly not convinced. To be honest, he wasn't feeling convinced himself.
Shuri gasped, "Have you been writing to him?" Dream-Jeremy groaned, and she all but squealed in excitement. "You have! Oh, you're both so sweet!"
Dream-Jeremy muttered incomprehensibly. Shuri started chuckling. "You made sure to keep the post quiet, too! Were you that embarrassed to think I would know?"
Dream-Jeremy rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, a habit Jeremy had seen him suffer from on other occasions. "Tch. It's not like I had a choice, after the way you were going on about him."
Shuri wasn't buying it. "You could have just said you were missing him!" She was still laughing.
When she finally stopped shaking from laughter, he snorted, smiling even still. His eyes never left her, but that was something he had in common with Jeremy.
Right then, dream-Jeremy paused. Physically paused, as if he'd been stopped in time.
It was like watching a marionette with strings stop moving, a children's play put on hold. Then he simply faded like air, and Shuri turned to him, to Jeremy.
His heart stopped.
He'd had these dreams twice before, once when she was still alive, and once when it had already been a day since her death, and he was in over himself with his grief. Both times, his siblings called her "Mom". Both times, 'he' was a man made whole, a man who was not filled with resentment, and so was she. A dazzling, captivating existence, not simply in flesh, but in her very spirit. Both times, it was like looking at a different world, some parallel universe in which they didn't make the mistakes they did in his life, in his world.
Both times, he'd been invisible, watching a play unfold, separated from everyone by some unseen stage. Yet now she was looking right at him, fixing those large green eyes on his.
What should he do? Should he say something? He didn't dare move, or even blink, afraid to break the moment somehow— afraid she would turn away from him.
Then came the most bizarre thing of all—
Shuri broke into a smile. It wasn't happy, more of a tired smile of someone who'd looked at something inevitable and bittersweet. The kind of look you'd have if you were looking at someone dear after missing them for years, and knowing you could do nothing but smile, because you were powerless except to watch them. It chilled his bones, and he broke into a cold sweat. Yet, at the same time, he felt hot all over. His heart was a drum, beating steadily to his doom. Or maybe it was salvation.
Shuri watched his reaction, her own face changing into an expression he couldn't work out. There was a small frown on her face, as if she was trying to work him out.
Ridiculous. That's what it was, the whole thing. Ridiculous, absurd, heart-wrenchingly unreal. A fiction of his mind. A fantasy his subconscious had trapped him in.
Shuri still frowned, watching him like he was something fragile, like he was the one hurting. Like him hurting hurt her, too. "Oh, Jeremy." Her voice was soft, landing on him like a feather on glass.
He broke. The very ground beneath him seemed to have shuddered from the words. His chest bound him, squeezing his heart, making his eyes bulge, making him a prisoner in his bones. The next thing he knew, he was on his knees, his fists rumpling the linen of his shirt into nothing, just to keep his hands from flailing around him.
This seemed to startle her. "Jeremy— "
"Stop." He could barely get the word out. But it was invain. Shuri came to him and got down to his level anyway.
Stubborn woman.
"Jeremy," she said. Her tone was firmer this time, but it was no less gentle. She laid a hand on his back, stroking him calmly. "Breathe." It fueled his terror, heightened the warmth that was spreading through his blood. He couldn't stand it.
He wanted to leave right this second.
He wanted to stay forever.
As if she'd read his mind, she ordered him, "Stay still. Breathe slowly."
Unable to do anything else, he obeyed. He didn't know how long it took him to start breathing normally, but it was a long time. Shuri stayed there the whole while, silently stroking his back. Eventually, he was able to lift his head.
"How?" He wanted to ask "why?" but he wondered if he even wanted to know the answer to that.
Shuri blinked. "How what?"
"How did you... How do you know me?"
"Because you're Jeremy." She said it so simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Now it was Jeremy's turn to stare at her. This dream was turning more and more absurd by the second.
"You're wrong." She said. "This is no dream, Jeremy."
His mouth fell open. "Wha— what."
She was definitely reading his mind. But how?
"I'm not reading your mind, Jeremy."
He narrowed his eyes at her.
Incredibly, she smiled again. Only now, she looked like she was trying not to laugh. "It's written on your face, y'know. Anyone would say that if they saw you."
He looked down at the floor, not knowing what else to do or think. The scene had changed. They were still in the garden, kneeling, but it was dark now. The only source of light was the illumination of the moon.
"If it's not a dream, then what is it?"
Shuri looked at him fondly, but there was that look on her face again. That bittersweet look, as if she knew him, really knew him, like she knew the other Jeremy. He hated that look. It made him feel as though he'd been laid bare in front of her. As if she could look past his face, and inside him.
He glared at her, but Shuri was unfazed. "I'm not sure how much I can tell you, because I don't know much about it either. At first, I thought you were a dream."
"What do you mean?"
"I dreamt of you, Jeremy— of your life," she said, her voice dropping, her face adopting a faraway expression. "It had been a long time, too," she muttered under her breath.
"What are you talking about?" He couldn't quite keep the incredulity out of his voice.
She blinked at him again, seeming almost startled. "Ah.. I'm sorry; this must be so confusing for you." She smiled apologetically before continuing. "To be honest, I'm not sure how I ended up here, either. I have this dream periodically, you see, where I can see you, but I can't talk to you."
He wasn't sure what was more shocking, the fact that she was talking to him so casually, or the implications of her words. Because if this woman could dream, then she couldn't be a dream, too, which meant he was really meeting some 'other' version of Shuri.
Unless, of course, this was all just a crazy, wishful fever dream he was having. Though this thought made far more sense, he couldn't quite shove away the instinct that was telling him it wasn't right. After all, the details captured in this other reality were not only completely alien to him, they were things he knew he couldn't imagine, even in his wildest, most hopeful dreams, or even in the bouts of insane longing that sometimes seized him.
The realization shook him so thoroughly, it made his chest tighten again. "So..." he began, unsure of how to form the words. "You really are... real, then? And this— this is— "
"All real, yes." Shuri smiled encouragingly. The bright moon shone on her hair, casting an angelic, almost divine light on her, making those vivid green eyes seem ethereal.
If they weren't both already on the ground, he would've fallen to his feet. "We are inside a dream, though. It seems we were just reliving a recent afternoon I had with you and the kids. Well, not you, but— "
"Yeah," he murmured softly. "So, you... You dreamt of me?"
Her smile turned sad. "Yes, I did."
His throat went dry. "And what did you see?" He thought of all the worst things, the worst moments of his life she could have seen. His father's funeral? The argument they had afterward? The time Elias threw that rock at her? His argument with her when she first got with a lover, and the distant meals that followed? Or that one time, when they were at a banquet, and she'd slipped away, only to come back from a balcony, eyes too red to have been because she just rubbed them? Or the day that she left? Or—
A hand on his head snapped him out of it.
He gulped at Shuri, who was stroking his head. Long, gentle fingers through his hair, ruffling it then smoothing it out.
"It's alright."
He wished his voice were steady when he repeated, "What did you see?"
She smiled that sad smile again, and he wanted to lose it. "I know enough to have understood, from what little I saw." But when she looked at him, she seemed certain. Confident that she believed what she said. "You're kind, Jeremy. Kinder than you think. Just... I wish you'd let that kindness live, and not snuff it out because you believe you're not allowed to have it."
He shook his head, her hand still on his head. "I don't understand." He wasn't kind. That was the last word anyone could use to describe him.
She brought her hand down to his face, stroking his cheek, wiping at a tear he didn't realize he'd shed. Smiling still, she told him firmly, "You've made mistakes. So have I. We all have. Don't let that guilt crush you, Jeremy."
"I'm not crushed." For some reason, he didn't sound as firm.
"Then why are you crying?"
The question caught him so off guard, he couldn't say anything in response.
Shuri went on. "Rachel and Leon are worried about you. Elias is, too, though he doesn't say it. You see, they would rather have you safe in the capital with them than on the frontline against the Church."
His eyes widened. "If you know I'm going against the Church," He started slowly, "Then you must know why I'm doing it." There was a lump in his throat, and he couldn't push it down.
"I do," she conceded.
"Then don't say those things. Don't tell me to stop. Because I ca— I won't."
She wasn't smiling anymore. In fact, he felt that the longer he talked, the closer she would get to bursting into tears. So he didn't say any more, and resigned to just observe her. Her jaw was clenched, and her lower lip was quivering ever so slightly. She turned her face down. After a long silence, she said defeatedly, "Alright, I won't stop you. But visit your siblings, as often as you can."
He snorted. "You don't have to tell me that."
Shuri turned her face towards the castle, where the kids were likely out snoring. "No, I suppose I don't. You've always taken care of them, after all, no matter what anyone did or said."
Only because you were taking care of everything else.
This was a truth he'd realized only once he'd started learning what his duties were in earnest, even if he'd never told her that. Before he began learning beside her, he never had to worry about what the weight of his role really meant in his daily life. He was free to run after his siblings, making sure they were doing fine, learn the sword, and spend his time resenting her, pretending he didn't lie awake for hours willing her out of his head.
Only when time drew closer to his wedding, and he finally started substituting her in her duties occasionally did he grasp the scope of responsibility she'd been carrying for them for seven years. And all when she was barely two years older than him, with no foundation of knowledge or noble background to fall back on. It had impressed him terribly, and now he only wished he'd told her.
Would that have changed something? If he'd been honest from the start, if he hadn't run from her like the plague when she'd tried getting closer to them all, would she still be here? Would—
"Look." Again, she snapped him out of that train of thought with a single word. "It's getting light again."
Following her gaze, he saw the small blush of dawn just peeking out, turning the sky a deep blue, almost violet. "Already? How?"
"Maybe because we're in a dream. Jeremy, listen." Her voice took on an urgency, making him turn back to her without thinking. "We don't have much time left. You need to wake up soon."
He raised a questioning brow.
"Take care of yourself." She inhaled deeply, as if bracing herself for what she was about to say. "If you're going to fight, then at least stay alive to see it through. Write to your siblings. Don't— don't..." She choked on the words, unable to do anything but squeeze her eyes shut.
"I know," He said, though he didn't.
That was when it happened.
The ground shook violently, and the scene changed again, making the world spin around them. The castle, his home, the garden surrounding it, the grass beneath them, all began spinning away into nothing. Even the faint scent of flowers quickly faded. Instinctively, he grabbed at Shuri with a wild desperation. She lost her balance, falling against him, and he only held on tighter. What the hell was this?
The dream was a storm, and they were falling into it endlessly. The wind whipped his face, and for a long moment, all he could see was a torrent of pink— her hair. Shuri was clenching onto his sleeves, crumpling the fabric into nothing. She was screaming into his ear, and it was all he could do to not scream with her.
On and on they fell, deeper into a dark nothing, where the air turned murky, and the dark was physically stifling, a living thing with limbs outstretched around them, crushing them both until they were practically sandwiched. After a certain point, his lungs gave out. He couldn't breathe, holding onto Shuri from pure will. He wondered if she could breathe at all. No, of course she couldn't, that was a stupid question. She didn't have his stamina. Soon, however, it became too difficult to think of anything.
Just when he thought he couldn't take it anymore, the weight lifted, and they stopped falling. Gasping, both of them fell onto an equally dark floor, and though it should have knocked them out, it didn't. Jeremy couldn't be bothered to care at the moment, being too preoccupied with trying to breathe normally, again.
"A-are you— okay?" He sputtered out as soon as he could talk. Shuri was on her elbows, coughing.
She nodded in response, and he fell back on the floor, or whatever dark semblance of one they were on.
"What was that?" He asked her when he was sure she was fine.
"I don't really know what it was, but I think I know what it means." He turned towards her, lying on his arm, urging her to go on. "It means we're both about to wake up."
She stood then, straightening her back and fixing her clothes. Jeremy sat up, taking her in, focusing on her face as best he could, taking in the way her bangs framed her face, the way her lashes fanned her cheeks when she looked down, the exact length of her hair falling around her, committing the sight to memory. Yet, his heart was sinking.
She held out her hand to him, and he took it without thinking. On his feet, he stayed silent. When she looked at him again, he suddenly found himself wishing they were still falling. She took note of his face, and whatever she saw there seemed to sadden her.
Smiling, she took a step back, and another. "Goodbye, Jeremy. I'm glad I got to talk to you again."
Again?
He barely registered the words, except for 'goodbye'.
"Wait— !"
Just as suddenly as they'd started falling, Shuri fell again. He flailed at her, grabbing nothing.
"Jeremy, I'll see—"
Faintly, her voice echoed, and he leaned forward, trying to fall, and failing.
Just when he thought it was invain, he started falling, too. He fell backwards, opposite to the direction she'd fallen in. He fell and fell, barely feeling it, but for the sensation of his body going feather-light. It was so dark. So, very dark. He fell for what felt like an eternity, and he didn't even care.
What was she trying to say? 'I'll see you'?
He could only hope.
Because that meant he might just dream of her again. Dream of this 'other' Shuri, so like the one he knew, and so different at the same time. But then—
*
Jeremy's eyes flew open.
For the first three seconds, he had no idea where he was.
Well, he was on the floor, that much he knew. The room was small and wholly bare save for a hard, simple bed, and a bedside table with a drawer. Over his bed, there was a small window. He straightened, heading to the window and peering out. He was in some woody area, surrounded by tall, thick trees. He did not recognize the place. How had he ever ended up here? He strained his mind (which gave him a momentarily splitting headache), going back on what the last thing was that he'd been doing. Then he remembered.
The battle. The Holy knights closing in on him. The fall—
He'd fallen off a low cliff, into a deep stream. After months of ambushes and laying of traps, he'd gotten caught in one. And in a neutral area, too. Of course the Church had pulled a low move like that. He remembered the ground giving way beneath him at the edge of that cliff.
And then... he'd dreamed that dream. It all came rushing to him like the rushing of water in his clothes, in his mouth, ears, and nose.
Jeremy, I'll see—
It was like being stabbed with a rusty blade. And Jeremy would know.
He clenched his fists, knowing he couldn't afford to lash out in the middle of nowhere. What even was that dream anyway? Why did he have to dream of her now, of all times? He'd had those dreams twice before, but never like this. And it had been so long since he had that last one, he'd been close to forgetting about it.
Stop. He was in possible enemy territory, not in his own bed. He had to keep his head about him.
So where was he now?
He turned to the door, before realizing what his being here meant. He'd been taken care of. Jeremy looked down at himself: the same clothes he remembered wearing, with the addition of bandages. His arms were left with the scratches, but his head (He reached his hand out to touch it) was definitely bandaged. He must have hit it pretty hard, he thought.
Yawning, Jeremy left the room, taking in the rest of the place carefully. It was a small shelter, entirely made of wood. In what must have been the entrance room, he found only a small sofa, a shelf of books, and a table with all kinds of papers littering about. Intrigued, he looked at them carefully.
Oh?
Those were some interesting things, even if half of them seemed like puzzles to him. He smirked, moving across the table to look at other details he might have missed.
There was a small pantry in a corner. Jeremy wondered if he should give in to hunger before inspecting the area; there was always a chance the food was poisoned.
As he turned away towards the door, he heard a distinct "Tch." The door swung open.
"I thought you'd be out for longer, with how your head was looking."
Nora Von Nuremberg strided inside, looking sorely disappointed to see him up and about. Jeremy didn't think he'd find him here, but it was lucky. The last time they'd met, he'd lunged at him, in over his head with grief. This time, he could use the time he was given wisely. Nora didn't have to die today. Not if he could prove useful in this war.
And given what he'd seen on the table, that much was... easy. He only had to talk now.